


In The Beginning - (Reworked)

by Blackrayvn



Series: In The Beginning - (Reworked) [1]
Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Angel Wings, Angelically Bonded pair, Angels, Archangels, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Angel Wing Mugs (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Beginnings, Blow Jobs, Bookshop Owner Aziraphale (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Creation, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves the Bentley (Good Omens), Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Crowley's Bentley (Good Omens), Demon Wings, Demons, F/M, Fallen Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Fallen Angel Lucifer, Falling In Love, First Time Blow Jobs, God Creates Life, Lapdance, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, One True Pairing, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Other, Principality Aziraphale (Good Omens), Prophecy, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Sentient Bentley (Good Omens), Sentient Bookshop (Good Omens), Sex in the Bookshop (Good Omens), Snake Crowley (Good Omens), The Bentley Ships It (Good Omens), The Nether, The Nothing, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens), True Love, Warrior Angel, Wings, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 44,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackrayvn/pseuds/Blackrayvn
Summary: All things have to have a start, all things need to be created.The start of a story of ineffable plans that God sets in motion,using Aziraphale and Crowley as pawns in a love story of theirown creation, without knowing of course.
Relationships: Adam from Eden & Eve (Good Omens), Adam from Eden/Eve (Good Omens), Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale & Crowley & The Them (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & God (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Raphael (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/God (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Raphael (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Michael (Good Omens), Crowley & God (Good Omens), Crowley is Raphael - Relationship, Crowley/Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens), Dog & Adam Young (Good Omens), Gabriel & Michael (Good Omens), God & Agnes Nutter, God/Agnes Nutter, God/Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens), Raphael and God (Good Omens), The Them & Adam Young (Good Omens)
Series: In The Beginning - (Reworked) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984969
Comments: 30
Kudos: 18





	1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Will update for trigger warnings as the chapters go on.

**Chapter One**

_In The Beginning_

**[Chapter One, Playlist, Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi5J6A_yUYLErx6wC_muPu3L) **

God stretched open her arms as she looked over her library, wondering what she would do on this day. Reaching up a large blank book from an upper shelf in her library caught her attention. Gingerly she placed it on her ornate celestial desk. Turning the book this way and that, she tilted her head.

God stared at the iridescent black snake that was protectively wrapped around a flaming sword; the two opposites adorned the book. Touching the front cover, her fingers traced over the emblems; she could feel the love flowing from them. God sighed regarding what the book wanted, for each one of God's books was a story unto itself.

Letting her words, visions, emotions, thoughts, millions of ideas flow through her mind, she came up with a million ineffable plans. She looked again at the book letting a feathered quill dipped in gold stardust tap against her temple. This book was unique; she felt as though it were a good omen.

"It's time, for yet another chapter, another story...This book feels different; it wanted to live, breathe, and maybe it'll be right this time. I wonder what I will make; I want to be there this time."

God smiled, looking at the light that surrounded her; she wondered if this time she would take on a form or stay as pure light. Looking at the tree that pulsed with color and light, she tilted her head.

"What will I do this time around, so many ideas, so many options, what haven't I done thus far? I wonder…another war story, another mystery, a love story,...a love story of ineffable possibilities, something that should not be, enemies in keeping but love prevailing if they so choose. Though I will keep all my plans to myself, only letting what needs to be known available for those who want to find me?"

Quietly she spoke to herself. Stepping back from her desk, a snap of her celestial fingers, a pure white cup with wings appeared filled with hot tea, her favorite cup steamed in her hand. Waving her hand over the brilliant book, the pages fluttered open, the first sound of a new world, the turning of the page.

The darkest of pages caught her gaze. The darkness devouring the light that shone from her, trying to live, trying to come alive, and be something other than the nothing it was. God ran her delicate fingers over the page, caressing the darkness calming whatever it was with her touch. She felt the love flow back from the pages; this book was alive.

As her attention was held by the darkness, two beautiful faces popped into the light that was the Lord, brightly smiling, filled with the love that God herself shone on them. Peering in, God looked up from her new book.

God couldn't stop the joy that flowed from her as she let her grace and her light dance upon her two first creations. The two were far from perfect, but they were perfectly imperfect and entirely her in every way.

"Come in, Aziraphale...Raphael, don't hide behind him, I know you are there, I can see those eyes from here and that brilliant smile you keep for Aziraphale. What are the two of you up to?"

Joyfully Aziraphale bounded into the light, taller and more robust, just slightly older. Brilliantly smiling, as curly platinum hair bobbed around his face, stopping at his shoulders. Eyes that shone with the deepest of vivid blue splattered with stardust, specks of stars in golds and silvers outlined and flowed within them.

Just behind Aziraphale and holding tightly to his hand, was a slightly shorter creation, but significantly more fluid, a leaner being that she lovingly named Raphael.

Raphael was beyond stunningly beautiful, statuesque, hair of the deepest apple reds, twisted into soft flaming pipe curls brushing just past the middle of his back. Raphael's eyes a color that she mixed with her own emerald green and the lapis of Aziraphale; within Raphael's eyes, golden nebulas danced and spun.

God looked back down at the book as they walked hand in hand to her side, letting the two look into the vast darkness of the book and back at her. Touching the darkness of the book, she could feel the pull; the book wanted them, longed for them.

"New book?"

Aziraphale seemed giddy at the thought of a new adventure for them to read and enjoy an escapade or two with God. As she so often did with them, this was the first time a book called out for her creations, it was always beautiful, but the three of them always enjoyed books together. This book wanted them.

"Why's s'it so dark?"

Raphael asked innocently enough, a tilt to his head and his red curls fell over his shoulder. Aziraphale, almost on instinct, ran his fingers over Raphael's shoulder, moving the ringlets back behind him. God smiled, seeing the love the two had fostered on their own without her encouragement or interference, and a new idea took root in her endlessly vast mind.

God smiled brightly at this new creation as she looked between her first two creations. Fiery emerald orbs of light observed the joined and connected hands of Aziraphale and Raphael, seeing a golden thread that bound them to each other; her eyes dropped back to the open book and the nothingness that stared back at her.

God could feel it's presence, the life that was there, something hidden within that darkness; she smiled at the nothingness. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Raphael, tucking him within the safety of his arms; the two knew the smirk that danced on God's countenance.

Looking at each other, Aziraphale could feel the weight of sleep gathering on him; he fought it until he saw the eyes of his beloved close. God snapped her fingers, catching the two as they crumpled together, sleeping deeply within each other's arms, never to be parted, never to be without.

Looking back at the book that suddenly was joyful, gleefully singing her praises from somewhere deep with the darkness.

"The Nothing, it is what you are and what I will call you. It's a start. Now then, where to go from here."

God smiled, running her fingers along the edges of the pages; scheming and planned was nothing less than wicked and ineffable. Letting a touch of light and dark dance across The Nothing, sparks, flashes were created, letting her heart fill with a love for this book. She giggled, feeling the praises that The Nothing sang out to her.

Content with her work so far, she smiled, looking down at the pages. Letting her thoughts and ideas start to flow into the slowly filling pages, she let all she was flow. Creating and what was being created, she saw the beauty and decided that she would enter The Nothing after a rest for this book.

The Almighty's fingers coiled into the light that made up her strawberry blonde curls as she thoughtfully closed the book.

"Enough for now. Tomorrow I must create life...what to call them, what to make them."

Looking towards her first two creations as the rested and slept together wrapped in each other's arms, she smiled lovingly.

"Something like you but not you, you both will be the only ones as perfectly imperfect as you are. You will make your own decisions, more so than the rest, your souls immortal, you will figure out your own ends without my interference."

God sighed, knowing some of what her thoughts would be and in the hopes that her to creations would come to fruition. Yawning and stretching her light completely, her form shimmered against the dark beyond her light...

"Now then, to think about what and how everything will go. A story of creation, filled with everything I can create, eventually leaving it up to my creations to figure it out. A story of love, enemies that will find a way, breaking every rule to stay together from the beginning of time."

God thoughtfully hummed to herself as her form shifted and shimmered into that of an enormous glowing serpent. Colors flowed around her form, some of the colors creating themselves as her mind came up with new ones. Pulsing between the lightest of light and the darkest of dark, God's form was laced with etched golden runes.

Coiling into a tree of the most mysterious fruit god had dreamt of, pouring all her knowledge of what was good and evil into those fruits, God still dreamt of her creations and smiling as she let her eyes close against the darkness, it would be a new time whenever she awoke. Time meant nothing to her; it hadn't been created yet. God slumbered and dreamt up new creations.


	2. Heavens Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having the book she needs, and The Nothing at her beck and call  
> God goes about creating all that is needed to bring her creations  
> to life. Keeping her first two creations close to her, she prepares herself  
> for the inevitable, and the hope that all would end well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Trigger warnings - Yet

**Chapter Two**

_Heavens Gate_

**[Chapter Two, Playlist- Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi7T8tN_i4eH2qQuFkE56My2) **

"Time to ssstart."

God's serpent form hissed out as her form slithered from the tree and sliding onto her feet. A flowing gown of light and energy glowed and wrapped around flowed around her form. Light pulsed in and out of existence as she moved, flowing freely between forms, and dusted with light.

The brightest of lights floated around the top of her, casting light and shadow that danced and chased one another about her room. The lights seemingly flew across her space, over thousands of books, the shadows took flight.

As she watched the shadows below and the light from above, God's plans started to come together. An endless imagination hummed through her making her way to the book, without touching the book seemingly opened on its own, calling for her to enter.

Casting a protective glance over her two creations that she had loved since they were no more than an idea. God's first attempt to create something other than light, something with substance, looking at them once more before going back to the brilliantly darkened book.

Glowing emerald eyes looked back and deeply into the book; God's hands reached forward, touching the edges of the books gilded pages, the snake wrapping around her wrist while the sword slid into her hand. Closing her eyes, the room fell away as darkness enveloped her light circling her, encompassing her shadow, devouring all she was, bringing her into itself.

The Nothing surrounded her in darkness in all of its emptiness; in the Nether she floated, her light being consumed by nothing she found there, only a feeling could be found.

God's grace, her essence floated within the abyss, within The Nothing, her form glowed, dancing together within the darkness that The Nothing provided. Opening her arms, God let her love flow, a warmth filled The Nothing as God's imagination, her light, her wants, her desire to create. The Nothing answered, taking all she gave and created the heavens from her love, her light.

The Nothing trembled as it was twisted, broken, made new, a light from somewhere deep within shone, slowly growing brighter as God nurtured it. The Nothing cried as God's love-filled it and rebuilt it. God's light and brightness bit back the darkness that now lived below God's feet.

God overflowed The Nothing now that the darkness was below and the light grew above, she needed someplace to settle, to create more. A city of silvers golds the purity of her white light. She let her thoughts flow from her vast mind, creating as she floated with the book.

Hearing and feeling the shift in the energy around her, God descended, letting her feet touch the ground below. Opening her eyes, her vision of beauty stood before her, a city, a silver city looked back at her, empty and willing to bend to her will.

"Well, that's a sight, beautiful."

God spoke out loud into The Nothing, the first sounds in Heaven.

"I really outdid myself this time, mayhaps take up residence here. Watch what my creations do, this, this is something new."

God smiled to herself, a light of joy, the love of forever shone from her grace.

God took in the beauty of her creation, in awe of herself of the majesty her mind had brought forth into existence. She had genuinely grown since her last futile attempts. Shimmering golden fences surrounded the entire creation, a single ornate gate made of gold, pearl, and silver opened as its creator stepped under the archway and entered the city.

It was bright, pure of light with pillars and spires made of white marble, pearl, and silver etchings. God continued to walk on the purity of white clouds, on the grace she let flow from her essence; to walk here was to walk in the footsteps of God herself. God walked graced this new city with her light, stopping to watch as the water fell from high above; she stared in awe, seeing colors joined together, dancing within the mist.

In the middle of her grand city, a spire of silvers, glowing golden runes beckoned her to it, sang to her, called to her very being; this was something she had not created. She tilted her head as she took in the grandeur of the spire that stood before her.

Closing her eyes, she felt the call of The Nothing, she listened as it sang her praises, and a voice echoed through the Heavens.

" A gift to you, stay with us. We were Nothing, you saved us, you saw us, you heard us, you brought light to our darkness."

Unexpectedly, The Nothing was always more than that; it pleased God, and in so doing, God made the darkness that it kept, changing it into The Nether where her creations could find each other as they truly were, a place where they would be safe.

"Thank you, I will stay for as long as I am needed."

God continued to walk and observe her creation, gardens of lush verdant, gardens of color...but just the start of what she planned. Wanting her creations to help create their new home, she would wait till they were here. With a snap, she stood in front of what would become her home as she took the next step.

"What to call you. Zion, no."

It took God a few moments, or a few years, no one would ever know; time was still a passing thing, never having been noticed. A word she had never uttered put itself together in her head. Pure love flowed from her as she spoke to The Nether, which then became everything, as everything would be built within The Nether...

"Heaven. My home."

God spoke the name with reverence, calling to it, the name demanding to be held in worship, smiling her voice, causing it to be, a name that all creations would know, instinctually.

"Home..."

God said, a whisper barely heard throughout the Heavens.

Looking at the spires as the glow dimmed, she thought of her favorite cup and the feathered quill she wrote with. A slight smirk, and she changed her form. Gods towering form of energy and light pulled in on itself, twisting in on itself, becoming smaller, wrapping in a skin that changed between all colors.

A gown of light became a flowing robe of white and glowing runes, God's hair fell in waves of a strawberry blonde with streaks of apple red and platinum blonde. Eyes of brilliant emerald remained, as there was only so much power God could hideaway. God's features perfection, gracefully beautiful, and in her own words, imperfect.

As she ran her hands over her new form, she smiled, feeling the curves that her imagination and The Nether created for her. Looking up at the spires again, she closed her eyes, and on her back, a hot white glow started to form. Wings firmly grew from her, large, tall, and dragging behind her.

The softest and most durable feathers graced her wings. Matching the wings of her favorite mug danced with the purest of whites, silvers, golds, and just underneath her full wings as she expanded them fully, were two smaller sets of colored glowing feathers outlined with beautiful black just like The Nether had been.

Smiling God-breathed in air, she did not need, but her creations would eventually, taking to the sky, she let her mighty wings propel her up, flying over the city and throughout the spires. The glow of Heaven encompassed her; silvers and golds shimmered under the brightness of the runes and God's light.

God stopped atop her spire, snapping her fingers; everything from within her light appeared in her spire in Heaven, her home. God's most beloved creations were tucked in together, Raphael snuggled within the protection of Aziraphale arms while they were both safely protected in God's spire.

God then looked down into the emptiness of Heaven, closing her eyes and opening herself to Heaven; love poured from her in pulses of love, devotion, of color, God's light, and grace. The Nether trembled under the weight of love that wrapped, twirled, and intertwiningly caressed it.

"In my image, you will be created, my angels, my love, my grace, my hope come to be."

She watched as her creations came into view. Silently, covered, warm, and loved, they waited to have the breath of God breathed into them, life. God already had them named as they appeared one by one. Her thoughts went to her beloved ones, and she seemed sad for a moment.

"They'll be fine; they'll find a way, someday," she spoke to herself.

For the next day, God finished Heaven, her Angels, and their ranks...looking over them, God left her angels to choose how they would present once they figured it out. She wondered how long it would take for her angels to realize what they were, if anything at all, the first part of choice.

God finished, but before she had breathed life into her angels, God moved her beloved creations in tucked in amongst the others, with one difference, she separated the two from one another. Making them forget, hiding their bond of eternity.

Raphael would stay near God, his ability to create colors, heal and grow new plants. God would need him right away, but also left him without Aziraphale. He would be guardian; she had to hide the bond between the two; God worried about Raphael. Wondering if they would find each other again.

Aziraphale would be a rare angel in her ranks; one of two choirs would adorn him. Principality and leader of all her armies and Cheribum to see all that may bring harm to Heaven. He would be tasked with training all of Heaven, watcher of all, and commander of many.

Aziraphale and Raphael would not remember how close they had been to her; they would not recognize each other, they would not recognize her. Only by her grace would they find her. God only blocked their memory; it would only be temporary if the right paths were taken; they would remember, but not now. It was too soon, too soon for that; they needed to appear as the others.

"I'm sorry."

God whispered and blew across the heavens, the first breath of life. For the first time, the Heavens awoke and breathed at the beginning of everything and the end as well.


	3. Stars and Swords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As God finishes her work, she awakens her first two creations.  
> Giving them hearts, souls and grace, letting them choose  
> how they look and what they feel they should have.
> 
> Still breaking their memory of the other, but a bond she finds is not so  
> easily broken.
> 
> The breath of life is cast onto the angels of heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No triggers!

**Chapter Three**

_Stars and Swords_

**[Chapter Three, Playlist - Click For Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi5wHkDA2MoXNsodRUeaTC_i) **

The breath of God warmed the heavens; collective gasp as they inhaled their maker's air brought life to all of the heavens.

God's first creation, Aziraphale, was the first to stir and reawaken. Lapis' eyes clouded over with a heaviness he couldn't understand, he felt hollow, and fury seemed to fill the hollow that was him now.

Blinking, he looked up and saw God, instinctively he wandered to her, knowing but not knowing the being in front of him. His hands reached for her, and she gathered him into her arms; he sobbed into her embrace, not knowing why he was so empty.

"It's okay, Aziraphale, that is your name."

God tried to smile down on him, to reassure him, but she could feel his despair and anguish, just how empty he felt.

Aziraphale looked up at her with tear-stained cheeks and eyes that resembled a storm on the seas that had yet to be named. His chest heaved out a sob that he couldn't explain nor understand.

"Where am I, what am I? I don't, what's wrong here, it hurts."

Aziraphale touched himself in two places; one hand went over his heart, something he actually was made with, the other where a bond once grew in the center of his being. God gathered him closer and spoke to him.

"Oh my son, this is Heaven. I made it for you and your fellow angels; that is what you are, an angel. The hurt you feel is in your heart and your soul."

God's face was troubled that fact his soul was not supposed to ache like it was. She couldn't let this continue, or the start would be the end. Her button nose scrunched up slightly, her eyes squinched up with the movement; Aziraphale felt a pang in his heart at the adorable notion of that face being made by her. Laying her hand on his soul, she spoke in no more than a whisper.

"Aziraphale, my first creation, my first knowing of love, your soul the first of its kind be still, feel no pain and no loss until you find him again. Slowly your heart will know who he is, but your soul will know him, will protect him, will love him again. Know when you fully realize these things, and you remember me for all that I am. I am sorry for this moment in time where you are lost. For now, fill your heart with divine fury and lead my armies to keep him safe, Aziraphale. He will need you; I know he will."

Aziraphale stilled as his eyes glazed over once more, his celestial form altering to fit his new directives, the pain begrudging obeying God's word. A quick shake of his platinum curls as his eyes cleared to their bright lapis blue, the color of the oceans that had not been made yet. His hand touched his face, confused at the wetness there. God's hand wiped his face clean with a smile.

"Now then, my son, turn around and look into the reflection there; tell me if you are happy with what you see."

Aziraphale turned towards the shimmering reflection seeing himself for what he thought was the first time he turned this way and that. His eyes looking back at God and then at himself, trying to see his back. This went on for a while, much to God's amusement.

"Is there something wrong, Aziraphale?"

She grinned quietly, amused as her eyes glowed behind him.

"God...can I have those too?"

Carefully he pointed at the wings on her back. With a nod and a smile, she turned him back to the reflection.

"Now they are called wings, and these will be yours, unlike the others, yours are special, as you will lead my armies and see all. They will be the strongest and yet the most gentle. They will protect, harm, and fight with you."

God touched his bare back with the gentlest of touches drawing out where they would start and letting his soul make what fitted him, following her orders, of course. Standing back, God watched as the purest of white feathers covered his back and snapped open, seemingly sentient on their own; they shook themselves out, the weight caused him to stumble slightly, but the tips touched the ground, holding him still.

Folding up proudly behind him, the wings stood taller than him and ended just above the floor; a whisper of eyes covered them, looking, guarding, watching. Along the tips of each wing was a silver lining; at least that was the look of it, but as he touched the silver edge of his wings, he felt the edge of metal as sharp as any blade, and when he needed it would kill.

Aziraphale gasped and touched them.

"Beautiful"

Was all Aziraphale could muster, his wings responded and stood just a bit more proudly. A smile crossed God's face as she stifled a laugh. Turning back to Aziraphale, she waited to see if he noticed or needed anything else; this would tell her if her creations were different this time.

"God, what am I? Then, but wait, why do you have that, and I am like this?"

He pointed at her robes and gestured to his very naked form. A chuckle left her lips; this was more amusing than she remembered.

"You are a Principality, but of my Cherubim Choir, you will lead my armies, you will protect the heavens and myself at the cost of you if need be. You are more than the other angels and will always be. As for my robes, I made you without so they would not become your skin."

With a simple snap of her fingers, he was clothed in white armor with golden trim. As he looked ay himself, he could see, and he became in that moment a force not to be reckoned with. An angel that could shake the very heavens if it came down to it. God handed him a flaming sword; as he took it, the knowledge of what and how to fight was his, his celestial form shifted again, as did his wings to be what she needed.

Aziraphale continued to speak with God as a slightly taller but lankier angel with red hair, curls that stopped just at the middle of his back wandered up to God, as he had seen her light. God's second creation fell into her as she gathered the sobbing angel into her loving embrace. An audible gasp shot out of her Principality as his hand gripped his soul.

"Well, this won't do."

God mumbled out; with a snap of her fingers, the two stilled, and she started the numbing process on both of them, a second time on her Principality whose soul and heart just couldn't let go of the ties that bind them together.

God talked to both of their souls, and their grace promised to keep them in check and slowly let things happen if they ever did. Their hearts loved God but would accept nothing but the other and remained hollow, space where only the other would fit.

Both angels awoke from the word of God and looked at each other; two hearts thumped hard in their chest, but no knowledge of why came forward. God watched and praised their grace and soul for a job well done. Their hearts quietly wept but kept it unto itself.

"Aziraphale, this is Raphael, that is your name, angel, Raphael. You will be unlike any other angel, just as Aziraphale is his only kind."

Raphael looked at Aziraphale in all his glory, already armed, and in armor and glorious to view; his eyes simply devoured the image and burned it into his memory, his heart thumped again as his image burned across him. Looking down at himself, he felt "underdressed" even though that wasn't a thing just yet. God turned him around to the same reflection and asked the same of him.

"Can I have those too?"

A knowing smile crossed her face as she knew it was the wings. Turning Crowley around, she touched the same place on his back and watched.

Shimmering around his back became darker as she watched, strong but very soft wings of iridescent black came into view, slightly smaller than Aziraphale's, not made for battle but travel for long distances. Raphael's wings shimmered as though wet, Aziraphale's wings lurched forward, wanting to touch the newly formed wings. He clamped a hand over his mouth to try and hide the gasp and pushed back against his wings, it was his first battle, and he was about to lose.

Raphael glanced up just in time to see white as both he and Aziraphale toppled to the ground only to find they were in the air; black wings had wrapped around Aziraphale, and his wings soared with happiness and joy.

Their grace would not allow the final thought to flow to their brains, it was a battle, and God then intervened; with a snap, they were both standing in front of her, their wings furled into a hidden realm, just to keep them in check.

"Well, that was something. Now you'll need a robe."

Another snap and Raphael was in a robe of greens and blacks with ever-changing lights and colors that swirled and collided. It was, in fact, beautiful and an acknowledgment to The Nether. His hair adjusted itself into perfect curls that laid gently against his robes in contrast to everything else. He glanced at the reflection and made some minor adjustments himself, a braid, a slight lift in the bottom of the robe, a tuck here and there, and then a satisfied nod.

In Aziraphale's being, his heart pounded at each movement, at each change, at every smirk and his eyes that twinkled in the light of God. Raphael turned to him for approval, and as he nodded his head, but couldn't speak.

Raphael beamed an angelic smile that burned the image across everything that Aziraphale was. At that moment, God knew there was nothing that would keep them apart, ages, wars, nothing they would find each other, and at that moment, she knew Aziraphale would topple Heaven to keep Raphael safe even at the cost of his own soul. God knew what was to come and the heartache that was going to follow but said nothing.

"Umm, Raphael, if you are content. Let me explain what you are to me since you will be spending most of your time with me."

God smiled as he turned excitedly so.

"You will create the universe, my son, the star, the skies, your imagination is what will shape the universe; I need this of you so I can create what I will call Earth. My plans are endless and as old as time itself, but these things I charge you with need to be done. Then, in between when the Earth is done, I will create a garden, Eden, and you will fill it. You will know more in time, but for now, use the gardens of Heaven to create new plants. The soil will mold to your hand as you see fit."

She glanced between her two oldest creations and smiled. God pulled them into her embrace and turned them to face all the other angels that now had to awaken, some with wings of the purest whites, others with white and gold, the ones that stepped forward had wings of varying numbers, different sizes, and shapes.

Each had a job, and a choir, a specialty that only they could do, and each had a part to play in her ineffable plan. A whirlwind of introductions to these that were different, Gabriel with eyes of a violet sunset, Michael with eyes of never-ending dawn, all had eyes of colors that none other held, nor would again.

As they were finished, all having been introduced, they basked in the light of the lord. Raphael looked up and into the darkness, and with a nod and a smile, he was gone. The darkness of The Nether wrapped around him.

Aziraphale watched the darkness as Raphael flew off. As he watched the darkened sky, lights started to twinkle by the thousands. A swirling mass of color appeared; stars brighter than any other now appeared. A moment later, stars the color of Aziraphale's eyes adorned something far off in the distance.

He watched breathlessly as what would be known as the night sky was littered with the stardust twinkling diamonds in the sky. Aziraphale knew it was Rap[hael that had created them, and as beautiful as they were, he couldn't help but think to himself

~Beautiful, but not as beautiful as your eyes...~

Aziraphale sighed at his own thought, and God caught a pulse of longing. God quickly changed the topic, sending them all on their way to do the jobs for which they were created for. A single angel still had not arrived, the one that would catapult the creation into a full-scale creation, Samael, the Lightbringer had not come to her.

Looking out, God saw him leaning, naked against a pole, his wings sheer shimmers of light, beautiful but neither in this realm or the one she had created; he was keeping them captive within his own being. Sighing, she knew that her creation would one day betray her, and she did an excellent job of making him want to.

In a way, God hated herself for having to do this, as she loved all her creations, and he would become the most hated above all, but for her plan to continue, it was what it needed to be.

At that moment, a small angel baring a female's look grabbed Gods' hand and stood near her. A smile crossed her face at the happy little one.

"Hello Agnes, and how are you today? Would you like to see my library?"

Agnes looked up with an understanding of knowledge and a memory of all she would see or hear. Long cascading brown waves tumbled about her, her eyes matching the color of her hair. A grounding color, an earthly color, Agnes would be an angel of the Earth, though when her time would come, she would not remember until the end, and then as she passed on, she would smile and return to her maker, open arms awaiting her.

Her job was one of the most important, for all would come to an end without her.


	4. Free Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time slowly moves on in Heaven, or does it travel faster than light?
> 
> Some angels are discontented with the way things are and want to  
> ask questions, bringing about, new feelings, causing the lord to  
> bring about free will, as her two first creations remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No triggers yet -

**Chapter Four**

_Free Will_

**[Chapter Four, Playlist - Click to Play](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi61_DBRgXq4u6XKroUzsg0n) **

Aziraphale was training within his arena; he had set it up to teach the angel's God would send him. Continuing to change his celestial form into what he perceived as the right form of a Principality. Trailing his fingers through the long curls on his head, he frowned; this was too much hair, too many curls; he hated the way they moved when he fought, sometimes sticking across his eyes.

"Gotta go..." he said to himself.

Stalking across the grounds, he grabbed one of his daggers from the marble bench; reaching up, he laced his fingers through his hair and adjusted where he wanted it slicing through the curls. Platinum curls fell to the ground, disregarded as he shook out his head. Aziraphale felt lighter, cooler, and he smiled as he ran his fingers through his hair. Shorter in the back and longer in the front, slightly disheveled.

Spinning around, he put the blade back, leaving the curls where they lay on the ground. Aziraphale stopped and glanced over his shoulder the golden runes catching his eyes as storms permanently decided to flow through them, always shifting, moving, all-seeing.

Raphael had come down from the stars after finishing making the stars and nebulas of the universe, as it was now called; he needed to speak with God about what she called "Day and Night." Landing with the gracefulness of all the angels combined, not a sound, not a ripple of wind from his wings, silent.

Raphael stopped in his tracks catching the sight of a particular Principality. He would spy on from the stars as he trained angels on his grounds; Raphael couldn't help himself, just everything about Aziraphale screamed at him to pay attention. Maybe that was because he was a bit scary, a bit taller than the other angels, and far stronger than the rest, and when he spoke, you felt compelled to obey him, well at least Raphael did.

Raphael's breath hitched as he watched Azira, his private name for him, watched as he stopped his routine and frowned deeply. Seeing him run his hands through his hair, Raphael's eyes traveled down the length of his body, which to his delight, rarely wore the armor for training, nothing but loose pants, as they would be known, made of the lightest material.

Raphael sighed, going on tiptoe to see where his Azira was going; much to his horror, he watched as he sliced perfect curls off and adjusted his hair. Raphael may have been disappointed until he saw him full-on, and the hair framed his face in a way that hitched his breath. Quickly he covered his mouth and hid behind the bush that he had grown there.

Peeking just past the bush, the ever quiet Raphael had pulled the interest of the Principality, and he had turned. The light lit his eyes, making them twinkle like stars; the look over his shoulder towards Raphael was too much for him; quietly and quickly, he tried to leave the area.

"Oh, my creator, you made him may be too perfect, that creation my lord, just dear.", he whispered to himself as he turned the corner.

Aziraphale was thoroughly intrigued, who would watch from a distance, leaving the training grounds, he let tendrils of his divine wrath leech from him out into the area; they couldn't have gone far. The tendrils stretched further, encircling the area, feeling for others..a smirk touched the corner of his mouth when suddenly a celestial light touched a tendril and quickly retreated.

Aziraphale couldn't help the laugh that escaped him; his wings unfurled with a snap and propelled him up into the air where the tendrils followed just behind Raphael; he knew that grace far too well. Just as soon as his amusement placed that smile on his face, from the only being that could make him smile anymore, he felt the panic that suddenly dim Raphaels grace and angered his wrath.

Wings filled with wrath and edged blades sped forward to where Raphael had been grabbed and panicked. Samael had seen Raphael before he was noticed, bullying him, backing him into the wall behind him; Raphael looked from the wall to Samael.

Aziraphale's wrath flared as he slammed into the ground and turned Samael on his heel. Standing to his full height, the Principality of God stepped forward and looked down at the Light Bringer. Raphael was hugging the wall behind him as he skirted around Samael and ran behind the Principality.

"Light Bringer, why are you here? Are you not supposed to be creating humans as God instructed you?"

Aziraphale felt Raphael behind him, his wings slid to either side of him, shielding him from God's favorite son. Raphael leaned against the Principality, whose eyes widened suddenly and quickly adjusted his stance to protect.

Samael had changed his robes' color, and his eyes had flared a red and orange at him. Leaning back against the wall that he had tried to press Raphael into, he grinned wickedly while licking his lower lip, looking the Principality over; he nodded only to himself but held his hands up and walked past the two.

"It's not over Principality, you may heed her every word, but I for one and many others have questions that need answers. Do you ever wonder why you don't make up your own mind, why you are at her beck and call, with no choice? I wonder, Raphael, how well do you obey??" a dark chuckle left him.

Aziraphale's wrath reached out and grabbed him, slamming him back to the wall, pinning him there. Samael blinked for a moment, a knowing smirk played on his lips as the Principality stalked upon him, his face set in a, "I am done with your shit" look.

He stood directly in front of the otherwise perfect Samael, looking down at him, causing him to tilt his head up.

"You will leave him alone, Light Bringer; you don't want to go down this path with me."

Samael shivered at the command but looked up and leaned in; before anyone knew what was going on, Samael ran his tongue across Aziraphales' lower lip, sucking it into his mouth before letting it go.

Aziraphale blinked; he became heated in anger? Something else? There was no precedent, but his wings were not having it and snapped forward, blades tight, and landed into the wall on either side of Samael's face; Aziraphale's hand roughly pushed him against the wall holding him still.

"Don't do that again, Samael, just don't move."

Aziraphale was beyond done with this toying, but Samael groaned indecently as he was manhandled by the Principality. Aziraphale frowned at the display and backed up slightly, looking at the Light Bringer; something had changed in him, he didn't know what yet, but it had changed.

Aziraphale looked back at Raphael, whose mouth was hanging open at the display he just watched. Aziraphale was catching all sorts of tendrils, neither of which he had never felt and had no idea what to do with. From behind him, jealousy, which it would be called later as this was the first of its kind, radiating off Raphael. It had twisted with anger; Aziraphale couldn't tell which was more powerful. From the front, lust and desire as they would be called later, somewhere from underneath a wave of burning anger, but want was far greater at the moment.

Feelings and tendrils wrapped around and fed the Principality as that was how he was built, to keep everything together, though these feelings were very well taking him apart at the seams. His once stormy eyes were now a nebula of stars and colors; somewhere in the middle, his pupils had blown wide, seemingly drinking in all the light of heaven into a black hole.

A pulse of Want came off of Samael, hitting Aziraphale dead on, his breath hitched, and as his breath hitched, Raphael's longing twisted around him and pulled. Aziraphale looked over his shoulder at Raphael.

"Really?"

Looking back at Samael in all his beauty, suddenly wanting to grab his head of blonde curls.

Samael was grinning like a cheshire cat; he had snuck into Gods library and grabbed a book, it wasn't anything that would change her plans, but one that gave him information on earthly pleasures, and oh had he read that book, many times and now he knew what he was looking at and how to play it.

In his head, he wondered, *Can I tempt a Principality...thee Principality into siding with us, that would be an easy win, plus, he is made well.* Samael let his tongue trace his lips as he locked eyes with Aziraphale. Aziraphale watched that wicked tongue and the glisten it left behind on Samael's lip.

"Problem Principality, or are you just going to watch me? I can make it better...if you want. It's your will, and what you say I will do, you can be quite persuasive, my Principality." Samael purred.

Raphael had had it, his Principality, what the fuck? He started to step forward, but a wing snapped back, stopping him; Aziraphale's wrath finally recognized this as a threat; it wasn't what was intended as love for them.

Something was wrong with it, and he had to protect Raphael from it; he took in all the tendrils and then reached forward, grabbing Samael by his hair and pulling him to him, a mere breath from his lips as he spoke, wrath pouring off him.

Samael felt the burn as though he was being cleansed of what he didn't know yet. Aziraphale glowed, surrounded, and bathed in Divine Wrath, his voice dripped with Gods Will, and the power he held started making the heavens tremble; whatever this threat was, it was not going to go unpunished or unnoticed.

"You will go make the humans, as you were told, you will never speak to Raphael again, and you are forbidden from speaking as you did just now. I will end you if you disobey again."

His hand tightened in his curls. Samael couldn't help it as his eyes fluttered shut and he moaned; Aziraphale didn't miss the sound nor the visual, but he didn't hate it either; he had to end it even though behind that Divine Wrath was a Divine Fire of want, not for Samael, but for the one he was protecting.

"Obey me, Samael.. don't push this; I would hate to punish you."

Aziraphale's threat was real, but there was an underlying note in the way his voice said it that has Samael nodding in agreement and panting as he was released.

Turning to watch him leave, his eyes fell upon the one thing he actually always enjoyed being around, but now something snapped inside Aziraphale as he looked at him, something curled and paced within him. Something more than smiling at his sight of him, something that made him want to grab him and fly while his lips touched Raphael's.

Aziraphale blinked and blushed; Raphael didn't miss the blush that stopped high on Aziraphale's cheeks and down his neck; his eyes followed the blush up and down the bare chest of Aziraphale.

"A-Are you alright?"

Aziraphale breathily asked, trying to hold back the curling need in him.  
Raphael suddenly felt like he was being hunted by a somewhat intimidating being; his soul was singing, his heart pounding, but his grace was scrambling to keep the memories from coming back.

Aziraphale's grace finally reached forward and touched Raphael's, a silent promise of "Let them have this once" Raphael's grace was reluctant but could not disobey Aziraphales and released only the feelings, not the memories. Both graces rejoiced as Aziraphale reached forward, grabbing his Raphael, and flew.

As they tumbled through the heavens and into the star fields, Raphael remembered, his grace had lost, and as his memory came back, his mouth found Aziraphales and devoured him.

God watched on with Agnes, and they both smiled. Looking down on her Light Bringer, her heart grew heavy; she hated what she was going to let him do. Agnes held Gods' hand, placed it to her soft lips, and placed a kiss upon it. She pulled her back to the soft cloud-like benches in the library where Agnes was to learn everything in the library.

"Agnes, how far along are we dear?" a smile crossed her lips.

God could see the calculations happening within the smaller angels' head. She watched as her eyes crossed and then with wide eyes!

"I am halfway done; there is much more, but why can't I look in that one book, and why is Samael acting like that?" her questions rolled out of her, and God knew.

"So many questions, my dear, do you not trust my plan and what I am doing?" she smiled, willing her to continue; if this was going to happen, by free will, then let it.

"Oh no, really, just so much I have never seen or felt, or even read about yet."

"That's because Samael stole the book that explained what was going on, and what he only read about, those two found on their own and probably is going to be happening on that one cherished Nebula far from here."

God laughed a laugh that sounded more like gentle wind chimes that graced the spires. God closed her eyes and calmed Samael; she didn't need any tarnished angels yet, quietly she touched her light upon her two oldest creations, quickly leaving them be. They were fine, they didn't need her, they had each other for the moment.

Secretly she did hope that the Principality wouldn't break the universe, though. As impressive as a conversation that would be, to hear them try to explain why it was broken, she just didn't have time to fix it; time was running out, and there was only one free day left before all would change.

"God, why can't I read that one book?" Agnes asked again.

God didn't answer but stood and lifted her angel's head, kissing her lightly before walking to her room. Agnes followed. Agnes didn't realize that kiss gave her free will; the outcome now was in her own hands and not the lords.

Walking out to look over the Heavens, God opened her wings and flew above the spires; time stopped as her arms outstretched, her last gift before the downfall, Free Will. They all had it now, as did her humans that had just been finished. God knew her plan; she knew what was about to happen.

"Let them have this, this one night, and then comes the day, worlds lives and loves will be etched in the forever."

With that, day and night were created, and free will born into her angels..what would happen that night of all-knowing was up to them.

One could only wait and see.


	5. One Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God let's the angels and her first creations have one night  
> of free will, and remembering each other, one last night  
> of being together. Knowing what the following day will bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - No Triggers just Earning our E

**Chapter Five**

_One Night_

**[Chapter Five, Playlist - Click to Play Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi5SlC2t2tVbYQFVejTAZEkG) **

Gods first creations flew past clouds and stars; Raphael and Aziraphale were allowed to remember each other. Aziraphale's grace released his memories of Raphael. Their souls sang together.

The heavens were far below as they cried together in the other's arms. All the memories of thousands of years past came flooding back to them; a thousand questions were pushed away, as arms entangled each other, holding tightly to one another, needing to never let go, never again.

Aziraphale's feet touched the edge of the nebula; he held Raphael in his arms, not letting his feet touch anything but air. Kissing him gently, at first, then deeper, starved for the touch of his love, his kiss, being in his arms. Raphael ran his fingers through Aziraphale's hair, not caring that he had cut it; he remembered him; his hollowness was gone. The stars sang to their creator, filling the universe with celestial music.

Aziraphale slowly let Raphael's feet touch the sparkling edge of the nebula, letting the kiss fall away. Looking into the eyes of each other, it felt as though time had stopped. Stars sparkled like Raphael's eyes, taking the breath of his love away. A single hitch in their breath, a kiss, a touch, made time no more, time refused for this moment to end.

Aziraphale gently took Raphael's chin tilting it up to meet the softest of kisses. Dropping her book as everything suddenly came to a halt, time stopped; it wasn't her doing. Looking out of her spire, the heavens had stopped, as the stars sang her praises, looking around no one was moving. A bright light flashed across the skies, looking up towards the heavens far above the city.

Raphael's nebula was sparkling, pulsing with colors, shining, taking on a look of fire around its edges. Two points of light beamed with the grace of ages, hearts danced together, their essences intertwined. Snapping her fingers, God locked the nebula within her protection. Smiling, she restarted time, keeping the Heavens to moving.

A glance out over the heaven made her heart sing and overflow with love. Her dear ones were with one another, a break she said to herself. Angels were pairing off into groups or more private groups; she could feel their bonds forming.

Just past her spire and down below, she could see Gabriel holding another angel, known as Bee; they looked enamored with each other; further along, Samael and Michael were in a compromising situation; Michael was against a wall. Blinking her eyes, she turned and, with a smirk, closed the door.

"Let them play, for as they fall, so will their grace; the fall will be here soon." God's heart was heavy with knowledge.

Agnes could feel it and embraced God, looking up at her.

"Are you alright, my lord." looking down at that bright face, she lifted her chin and kissed her lightly.

"You will stay by my side no matter what; you will not fall, Agnes, and there is no reason why you should not enjoy your night."

Agnes smiled and looked into her eyes.

"There is nowhere else I want to be; this is my night. My choice, as you said."

The lord smiled and dipped down, kissing her thoroughly.

"Your choice, my dear Agnes, then for the night, I am yours, as I promised everyone else."

Agnes keened under her words, sliding her hands into those curls, pulling her to her mouth...

Michael and Samael had since left the area and found a waterfall that they played and splashed in, their wings touching and intertwining, a bond created with a golden thread passed between them, as lips touched.

Gabriel was carrying Bee into his room, her hands twisted into his hair as they kissed, a kick of his door closing it, another bond of golden thread attached the two, for eternity.

Outside, the angels played music and danced with each other; golden bonds were created and grown. Heaven was happy, and love overflowed from their grace. Souls rejoiced, hearts pounded in chests that didn't need them, gasps were taken by beings that needed no air.

Aziraphale ran his hands over his Archangel, who trembled under his touch. His lips parted with a puff as he watched Raphael's tongue trace his lip. Placing his hand on the small of Raphael's back, Aziraphale gently laid him on his back. He tilted his neck back; Aziraphale placed kisses at the base of his neck and worked his way up to his ear.

"I love you, Raphael." His words sent chills through him.

Raphael sat up in front of him,

"I love you too, Azira."

Slowly he dropped his robe off his shoulders; Aziraphale traced the lines of his shoulders, pulling him onto his lap. Raphael laced his fingers in Aziraphale's hair, pulling it to the left, gaining entrance to his neck; he loved Azira's taste, he always had. Aziraphale ran his fingers over his bare back, touching the freckles that appeared with each star. Gently letting his nails scratch as he followed the curve of Raphaels back.

The nebula flared with each shudder from its creator, a gasp, as shooting star was formed, a moan a cluster of stars danced across the universe with more sparkling diamonds in the night sky. Aziraphale wanted to be as close to his love; his hands wandered up to his legs, finding his mound already soaking wet for him.

He groaned as Raphael's breathing hitched and just stopped, Aziraphale needing him, laid him back and pulled off the rest of his robes, and kissed his legs, his thighs. Slowly, lovingly, his tongue parted his folds, licking and tasting his wetness. Aziraphale could never get enough of his taste; as his tongue danced over his clit, Raphael arched off the nebula, his hands grasping at Aziraphale's hair, his arms.

Aziraphale kept him up against his tongue, pleasing him; his sounds drove Aziraphale to distraction. Reaching down, he pushed on his own hardness to relieve some of his own pressure.

The louder and more desperate Raphael's moans were, the more he needed to please him, he slowly slid his finger inside him, gracing him with his name being called, a second finger, his tongue continued to dance over him, curling his fingers, pressing them over his spot.

Raphael saw nothing but galaxies, stars, suns, and nebulas as he came. Aziraphale continued to lap him up through each wave of his orgasm. Raphael giggled and pulled him up to kiss him.

"I need you, Raphael, please."

Aziraphale's voice nothing but a purring whisper in his ear. Raphael's eyes closed as a bolt of lightning went through his spine. He snapped his fingers as he saw God do, thinking within his mind, no clothes. Aziraphale's clothes were gone, smirking at his ability to make naked; he held onto Aziraphale's hair pulling him back down and wrapping his legs around his waist.

"Please, my love."

Aziraphale melted into his angel; Raphael's hands were all over him, nails dragged down bare skin, and twisted into his hair. Aziraphale carefully slid into his angel, feeling his walls squeeze around him; he went slow; they had all the time they wanted. Slowly he made love to his angel, bringing him to the edge over and over again. Raphael was a quivering mess of feathers and hair under his angel.

"Please cum with me; I need to see your face, I need to watch you."

His words pushed him to distraction as he quickened his pace and pushed harder; Raphael moaned and gasped his name, pushing him over the edge, filling his angel with his grace; Raphael came as soon as he felt his warmth fill him.

Both gasping, they collapsed into each other, Aziraphales wings wrapping them in a cocoon of feathers. Together they stayed that way for what seemed to them forever.

God kissed Agnes as she fell into a deep sleep, walking out, and with her arms open, her love flowed into all the heavens, and then there was Day and Night, as the Sun was born. She left her angels with free will, as she wanted some of this to happen on its own; there was no way around her angels would fall, but even if she wished, some of her plans were etched in stone. They were her plans, and they were ineffable to everyone but her.

Walking back inside, she crawled back into bed, pulling her Agnes into her, finally closing her eyes for the last time before everything changed, and the world would become alive; she slept. As God's eyes closed and she slept, so did all of the heavens.


	6. Fallen Gardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God's Ineffable Plan comes together and the angels  
> are divided by questions. Having to let her creations  
> fight can only go for so long. challenging Lucifer to his new  
> name and forcing the fall upon them, only one of two of  
> her creations can stay in Heaven the other must fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// There is talked about violence, described a bit. but it is The Fall

**Chapter Six**

_Fallen Gardens_

**[Chapter Six, Playlist - Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi4joum_KreTLuvgHoFvouLF) **

Raphael woke first, still silently floating amongst the stars and the nebula that they rested on; his hand ran through the unkempt blonde curls on Aziraphale's head, he smiled to himself. Hearing the voice of God call them all back to the Spire, he sighed, tilting his head up from Aziraphale's chest, looking at his love before waking him.

"Aziraphale, wake up, we need to go back, she calls us."

Aziraphale pulled him closer, wrapping him in his wings and his arms.

"Noooo." he grinned teasingly.

Raphael leaned upon his chest and looked into his eyes.

"You are so beautiful, angel, you truly are, but we have to go. Sooo, are you flying us back, or am I going to have to do it?"

Aziraphale sat up, with a sigh,

"Oh, I will carry you always, my love. Let's go."

They both snapped; Raphael's robe had changed, the colors were all shades of green that changed and slowly crawled down his robes; he looked to Aziraphale, who just looked at him.

"You're beautiful."

Raphael blushed; Aziraphale's tunic and pants had changed as well, his pants a beige with a flow of light green shine, his shirt a pale sky blue, it was almost indiscernible, he smiled.

"I hope this won't be a problem. Not really what she gave us, but maybe it's her plan?"

Aziraphale shrugged and pulled Raphael into his arms, kissing him deeply; Raphael's arms came up and around Aziraphale's neck as they took the flight back to the Spire.

God stood in front of her Spire and looked out over her angels; all of them were present. The last to land were her two original creations, and she smiled at them. Raphael all but blushed from his cheeks down. Aziraphale held him, resting his chin on top of his head. Samael looked over at the two and frowned at Aziraphale, who smirked at him and pulled Raphael closer, which in turn leaned his head on Aziraphale's arm. His grin grew wider as he looked at Samael.

A crack of thunder had all of their heads looking forward to hearing the lord.

"Today is the last day to complete everything. You know your jobs, help each other, get it done, tomorrow will be here before you know it."

"Samael, you need to finish the humans. Raphael, the garden on Earth is yours, fill it, and return. Michael, Gabriel, make sure the angels are sent to help where all else is needed."

God's eyes fell to Aziraphale was the happiest she had ever seen; her heart sank.

"Aziraphale, you are to take and train all of them. Today, Michael and Gabriel will usher them in and out and then to their next job.."

He nodded and hid part of his face in Raphael's hair, breathing in deeply.  
Samael looked at God and questioned.

"God, what are these humans for?"

God stiffened; it was the start, but she answered.

"The humans are my creation; they will not have wings, they will not be clothed, and you will love them more than me."

All the angels shuffled a bit. not fully understanding; once again, Samael questioned her.

"God, why will they not have wings? Why do we have to love them more than you? Why do we have to love them at all? Will they have no ability, what will they do, why must we..."

God frowned as her voice boomed.

"Enough, Samael, this is my command, my will, you will do as I say."

Aziraphale straightened as he felt the tension grown within the ranks of angels, looking to God, his arms protectively around Raphael. Seeing Aziraphale's reaction, God put her hand up to him and shook her head. He tried to calm himself, but the fury in him had already noticed the threat, as did he.

Raphael turned in his angel's arms and touched his face, grabbing his attention.

"Let's get done what God wants and go back to the stars, angel."

Aziraphale nodded. God continued.

"I love you all my angels, now go and get this done, let the world begin."

The angels all turned and looked to the oldest angels, Aziraphale and Raphael, to direct them.

"You know what to do, those for training check with Gabriel and Michael, everyone else, get your work done."

Aziraphale's voice boomed; he kissed Raphael in front of them all and shot up towards the sky, and headed to his training grounds. Raphael stood there quite happy and went to leave as Samael grabbed his arm roughly.

"Don't get too happy, Raphael; I am sure with all these angels you're easily replaced."

Raphael yanked his arm out of his grasp just as Gabriel stepped forward to push Samael back.

"I forgive you, Samael, although I am not sure Aziraphale will. You were already warned, go do your job. Wanting something you will never have is not a good look."

Raphael smirked and shot up and was gone in a blink to Earth.

Gabriel held back a chuckle as he looked at Samael,

"Not really looking like the Lightbringer today, are we? You know that since the first breath we all took, Aziraphale watched over Raphael. Once God let us have last night till forever, you will never turn Raphael's head from Aziraphale, and let's be honest, you really want to challenge that particular Principality?"

Gabriel escorted Samael to the humans where he started doing his work, begrudgingly, hating the humans he was making, thousands of questions.  
Angels were assigned to help Samael, and as they arrived, he voiced his complaint, challenged them to see, and challenged them to ask questions.

He made his choices be known; he then challenged what God had said but made his point valid; slowly, while the humans were created, Samael was gathering an army, an army of questions and of angels that were being trained to fight.

Raphael landed in the middle of a vast open area of nothing; God had told him how big and where it was; his job was to fill it, making it livable for the humans.

"Make it for the humans to live and survive, but leave the space in the middle open for my apple tree."

Her only demands, which would be easy enough to complete. Opening his wings, Raphael flew around the area marking it; a wall rose out of the ground made of stone, a walkway on the top, high enough where you would need wings to leave. The ground shimmered with the greens of his robes as celestial magics poured from him into the garden he was creating.

Flowers of all shapes, colors, and sizes started to sprout. Trees filled with fruits and vegetables came from the ground; he held his hands up and brought the land higher and filled it with waters that cascaded downwards into a pit that filled making the most beautiful lake that would ever be seen.

Petals started to float, and as they did, they turned into insects to help the garden; fruit fell from trees; when they touched the ground, the animal's appeared.

Raphael stopped on the wall to look at his creation so far, he was happy, but it needed more. His thoughts went back to Aziraphale and his eyes, the most beautiful color, and he had an idea.

Carefully in his hands, he envisioned a flower. A flower with the softest petals, the smell of his love, a sweet and beautiful scent. Forming it into a rose, as he would call it, he changed its color to match Azira's eyes with a smile. The stem would be able to vine on anything because it was strong, it would climb any height to achieve anything, and as a last touch, he added thorns to its branches.

It was beautiful yet dangerous to the touch and could draw blood without a thought, but if you knew the flower, if you loved the rose, you could touch it unharmed, and it would bloom for you. The inside of the stone walls slowly crawled and covered with the new creation; he sighed happily.

Aziraphale was on his sixth group of one hundred thousand angels, so many more to go, but they were at least fast learners. He trained them hard, and failure wasn't an option. It was the last day; they needed to know how to care for and protect humans and each other.

The other angels and Archangels all watched him on his grounds. Aziraphale was the biggest among them all, but he was also the most graceful as he moved; his divination seemingly loved him as it whipped and wrapped around him, bending to his will, acting as yet another weapon for him.

Swinging his fiery blade in an arc that the others repeated, he bent down and sprung back. Springing up, his bladed wings caught him midair, slicing through the air and landing in a silent moment. He smiled as he noticed he had quiet the audience.

"Do you not have more to do? If you are done, then join the training."

Was all Aziraphale said and continued to train; everyone noticed his glance towards the Earth and the smile that quickly played upon the ever serious Principalities lips.

God and Agnes stayed in the tower.

"Agnes, you are not to leave this Spire, you are not to watch what happens, and you are not to read that book. Understood?"

Agnes nodded, not questioning anything; she was always faithful to the lord, keeping in line with what she said.

"God, will you be here with me?" God shook her head, no.

"I will be needed out there; ignore all Agnes, please."

Agnes again nodded in reassurance to her lord.

"These are my plans, and they must come to fruition, or else all this fails."

Her head hung for a moment, and then she was gone; outside, she waited. Raphael had finished his work in short order and quickly returned home and to the training grounds where he floated just above and watched his beloved angel. Aziraphale felt a tug in his very essence; his grace and soul shivered at the pull; he looked up and smiled.

This distraction caused him to not see the incoming blade from a trainee; the blade found purchase in his upper leg. Aziraphale grimaced, feeling the slice of the edge. Raphael dropped from the skies and had his arms around his angel, beckoning him to sit down.

Aziraphale did without hesitation as he looked at Raphael; the pain left him, his divinity flowed over the enraptured Aziraphale, removing all pain from him.

"Anything for you." was all Aziraphale could say.

"Look at me, angel."

He did; Raphael pulled the blade from his leg; Aziraphale dropped his head on Raphael's shoulder, feeling the blade slide out. Angels all looked on; the two had forgotten that there was anyone there; they saw nothing but each other.

Raphael dropped the blade and placed his hands over the wound; closing his eyes, he let his grace wrap and flow through Aziraphale. Aziraphale's grace matched Raphael's grace, everything they were intertwined, his leg knitting itself shut.

However, their grace, their souls, their hearts, everything they were, wrapped around them, as one. A light shown from them that even God went to the skies to see. As she watched, her heart broke, she watched as their essences became one and an unbreakable golden and silver thread joined them.

The Nether felt the beings' pull and wrapped itself around them; they floated and rejoiced in it, feeling nothing but each other's grace. In the Nether, they were everything, all of their love and grace combined. A new star was created out of their love, of reds, blues, yellows, and greens; it sparkled with the pure light of no color, just sheer shine, sheer love; it pulsed and danced.

That star would become later known as the North Star, the star that leads you home. Aziraphale stood pulling Raphael to him, his lips brushed across Raphael's, and at that moment, they were floating with the stars, all of their being stood on its own, they were apart from the others, they were together alone.

The light around them curled and pulsed before shining, brighter, and the threads of their connection sprung forward, tying all they were together. The angels all stood there, some entranced, some wanting that, some angry, some overjoyed, these were all emotions they had not yet had, but the one they witnessed was love. It ended as soon as it began; the two stood there and stared at each other.

Their bond was for eternity, their love created forever, and at that moment, Samael noticed and growled. There was nothing he could do to break that, becoming enraged, it was too much. Jealousy and Envy were created in the same amount of time.

"GOD!"

Came a call from across the training grounds. All turning to look. Samael came forward with all the angels that sided with him. God floated down, landing next to Aziraphale, who pushed Raphael behind him, his wings back and ready, edges shined under the light of God.

"What is it, Samael?" she waited, she knew, and her heart broke.

"You will answer our questions; you will answer them now." a frown was etched into his perfect face.

Michael looked on, devastated. Michael turned to Gabriel, who watched, horrified that his Bee was just slightly behind Samael. Together Gabriel and Michael held hands for comfort if nothing else.

God looked on and shook her head.

"I will not, you do as I say, I created you, humans are also my creation. I do not answer to you or anyone."

Aziraphale lowered himself, ready to attack if need be.

"Then, if you will not answer, then we will take the Spire and find out ourselves; you cannot stop all of us, God." Samael looked overly pleased with himself.

"Samael, you will no longer be known as The Lightbringer; you will be known from here out as Lucifer. Satan. I call out to all angels if you do not want to be part of Lucifer's plans, leave now." Half a million angels fled the scene.

With a growl, Lucifer went to attack only to have Aziraphale's fury attached to his neck, and he was being flown back into a wall. The two slammed into the marble; a loud crack could be heard as Lucifer drew his sword, swinging around at Aziraphale. The trembling started low and grew as Divine Fury, and God's Principality went into pure divine fury...

Lucifer fled from Aziraphale but not before his blade slashed through Lucifer's shoulder and back. The blood flowed, making Aziraphale fight harder; he had to protect heaven, God, and his love.

Raphael was stunned, reaching down a single platinum curl caught his attention, as suddenly the training grounds were flooded with angels fighting each other. He looked on as an angel's head rolled by his feet, his robes splattered with blood, he wept looking to God, who smiled and kissed his head.

"I am sorry, Raphael, someday you will understand, but until then, you will hate me. I love you and will never stop, but this is needed."

Aziraphale flew back, grabbing Raphael, setting him down away from the center of the field. Going back out, he grabbed his flaming sword and, in all his glory, shook the very foundations of heaven as he fought.

Tears streamed from his eyes as he had to fight his own kind, brothers and sisters alike, and when God felt he could take no more from the guilt that fed him and the pain, her voice boomed above all else; all fighting stopped for that moment in time.

"Lucifer and your angels, you are cast out of heaven for all eternity, you will be hated, despised, you will live and suffer in a place of your own creation, from your own hatred, it, you are cast to the down below. Your angels will be known as demons, and there you will stay, burning. I cast you out NOW.," she sobbed at her last words.

Suddenly it was quiet, before a storm, no sound could be heard until Lucifers cries. Angels stood and watched as the ground opened under them, falling from her grace, descending from heaven. Raphael ran for Aziraphale, he saw his bloodied wings, his pained face, he ran for him with his arms outstretched.

Aziraphale saw him and turned to go to him; as Bee fell, she grabbed onto Raphael, who was pulsing with healing; the injuries' on her faded as he healed her.

Raphael stopped, the ground grabbed him, tears streamed from his face.

The screams of angels falling filled the air, along with the heart-wrenching cries of those that hadn't. Angels tried to grab their loved ones, their friends that were falling, but to no avail; they could do nothing. Aziraphale wings flew out and pushed him as fast as they could to grab Raphael, but he saw it.

The ground shimmered; his feet were no longer visible; Aziraphale pushed faster. He was within arms reached when the ground opened, and Raphael fell. Aziraphale screamed as he grabbed his hand; he had him, he wasn't going to let go; he would stand here for eternity.

"Raphael, no, hold on, please, you can't leave me."

Raphael held as tight as he could; tears and sobs were all he had left.

"Aziraphale, my love, my angel. Know I love you and never forget me."

Aziraphale was not going to let go; Raphael knew it and released his hand; he couldn't change his love from falling. Screaming, his wings shot out, and he followed, his arms reaching for his love. To his horror, he watched as Raphael's eyes changed, his wings started smoking, he started screaming, and no matter how fast Aziraphale flew, he couldn't reach him.

God's hand reached out and pulled Aziraphale back; he pushed against it, he screamed, he fought. The last he saw was his Raphael, up in flames, screaming his name.

Agnes heard the screams, and she looked, saw what was happening, saw Aziraphale and Raphael, and saw the book. Anger took over, and she read the book, all of it. Instantly memorized, she fell, not to the down below, but to the floor, where she would sleep until she was needed. God felt it and thought to her.

"My Agnes, you will be known as a Witch, they will not see the angel you are, you will be feared, and you will be hunted, your line forevermore will be the guardian of that book."

She sighed and turned to tend to her angels that survived the fall. The pain in all of them was beyond understanding; she allowed her love to flow with her arms open.

"Forget my angels, forget. Remember the fall, but not the attachment, not the pain. Forget my angels; all will be well."

God looked as all their eyes glazed over as her words took hold. She looked at Aziraphale, who was crumpled on the floor of his grounds, where his love fell. His pain was more than God could handle; her heart shattered, her soul screamed for him, her grace wept. The thread of binding was still attached to him.

Raphael's pain was his own; his loss was beyond recognition. God pulled up her broken angel, her champion, her leader of armies; she had broken him. There was no life left in him as he looked at her.

"Please, mother, please, cast me out, or let me die." he whimpered.

His wings dragged on the ground, he had nothing left, he wanted to fall, Aziraphale needed to be with his other half; he was hollow.

"No, Aziraphale, I cannot do that."

Aziraphale slumped and gave up; she could feel his grace, his soul dimming, she could feel his shattered heart. God placed her hand on his heart and touched his forehead with her own.

"I am so sorry, my first; I am so very sorry for all of this," with a whisper and a gentle kiss, his eyes clouded over, he stilled.

"Forget, you will always feel him, you will never hurt him, you will not remember any of this, other than you fought and bravely, you saved many. Forget, your bond is broken, but it can be mended; you'll know him somehow. Forget." she looked around and snapped her fingers; all of her angels slept.

God went back to her Spire, locked the door, closed the gates to heaven, and wept. As she cried, she placed one more curse on the fallen.

"You will remember what you did here today, you will remember what you lost, you will feel the pain of all of it. You will never be able to tell an angel that you see anything of what you remember; you will remember that you have been cast out from my love."

God sobbed until she fell asleep, all divinity crushed and crying.


	7. Fire, Feathers & Brimstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crawley and the others find themselves  
> falling, not knowing where, but feeling the  
> fall, feeling as they are touched by and engulfed  
> in flames. 
> 
> Confusion, pain, and hurt fill the Heavens and Hell,  
> but getting to the surface is only the beginning. Tempting  
> a human and better yet a misplaced angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// NonConsent open-ended threats, it's Hell.

**Chapter Seven**

_Fire, Feathers, and Brimstone_

**[Chapter Seven, Playlist -Click to for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi6L1tq3XRz5VcdI2S4Ud6C5) **

Oh god, I'm falling. Help me, Aziraphale, god, why am I falling. What did I do? The pain, my eyes, it burns, it burns.

~The Screams in the darkness are drowned out by my own screams~

Where are my wings? Why won't they work? I'm burning, please, please, make it stop, God why? Please let me die, let me go, let me leave this. I can't see my stars, my love.

~I can hear my brothers and sisters tormented screams, her love being torn from my heart, from me... I can smell my flesh, it's burning, my feathers, my wings are burning, fading into nothing, the smell it fills my nose~

Wait, I see a light. What is that, oh god, no, why me, what did I do? I loved you! Why am I going to burn? Please let it will kill me, please let it kill me.

~I hear her words within my mind as I fall, her final curse, I sob in between my screams, my bond strains, I can feel Aziraphale's pain, it's just as bad as mine, it doubles my pain, I can feel him dying.~

Please, God, hear my last thought; the only thing I ask of you, don't let him die. Not him, not because of me, No, Aziraphale, please, no.

~I feel my bond, it doesn't snap, screaming, my grace cries as it weeps, my heart shatters, beyond all repair. It's hidden, there is a wall between us, I still am falling, let the pools of fire take me. Save him, I feel it too much, I give up, let the flames take me.~

Sulpher consumes me; she can't hear my cries anymore; it's silent. I am empty; her love is gone. The connection to her broken, shattered, but I can still feel him. I can still feel Aziraphale, one last betrayal of my mother, one last pain to add to my fall.

If I can feel him, maybe, someday, I can't let go, I can't give up. Please god, no, I won't give up, help me, someone, help get me out of here. I am burning, I am not dead, help me, someone, anyone.

A small hand reaches down into the pit, her skin melting off, pulling me out of the sulfur, my skin slowly reforming into scales, covering me, fading in and out of existence. My form adjusting to this new life, my wings unfurl behind me, touching them, they are the same as in Heaven.

My eyes finally focus on the small face that kneels before me, their eyes looking at mine, tears streaming down their face. Remorse, regret is all I can see; sobbing, they grab my hands, pulling themselves to me.

I knew them; they were with Lucifer, part of the fall, it was them, I remember their hands grabbing at my robes as I ran for my love. I healed them, I didn't even mean to; it was what I was made for; why did mother abandon me?

"Why, did you do this to me? Why? I lost everything. I can't do this, I can't be here, I never questioned her."

I begged her as they crawled back towards me, pleading. Dropping my head to the ground feeling as everything within me broke. I couldn't understand why this was happening; where were we and where was here?

"Mother, why, please, I am begging you, please, I can't live, not like this. I can feel his pain, I can't... B..B...please."

I looked up at them pitifully; there was no life in my eyes, only torment and pain. I saw how they looked into my eyes, fear, worry, something was right, they had seen me time and time again, why did they look at me like that?

"I don't want to remember, I didn't ask for this, I never wanted this, I want Mother back, I want Aziraphale back. Why did you do this?"

Finally, I collapse in front of them, slowly dragging myself back up onto my knees. My soul crushed, my grace has stopped moving, I sob, I feel nothing, I am numb. They look at me, still weeping, her face burnt and blistered, flies try to cover their wounds, they sob.

"I am so sorry, Ra..Ra.I can't say your name. Why?" shaking their head, confusion, looking at my eyes again, they point.

"Your eyes, they aren't the same. They aren't your eyes; they're something else."

Looking into the pit that I climbed out of, I could see my reflection; it wasn't me, but it was. The same though different, my eyes were that of my serpent, where are my eyes? I touch my temples the backs of my wrists as the scales shimmer and fade, over and over again.

" I'm sorry, I was scared, you were there, I knew I could trust you, I didn't know, I was hurt, I was bleeding...I am so sorry. I deserve to be here; I ruined you."

They dropped their head into their hands, blistered and burnt; I have to try, I have to see if I can heal them. Reaching out to them, I touch them, the blisters fade; my healing still works, though not without a cost. Each blister that fades, I see it on me, it hurts, as I watch and endure their pain, I slowly heal.

Why can't I say my name, where are we, what will happen to us, to me? I'm scared, Aziraphale, hear me, please, feel me, remember me, please. Don't forget me, please, mother, don't take him...

Sitting together, we hold each other, afraid, scared, not knowing what to do. Until a malicious laugh and a kick into my back, the growl from behind us turns us around, holding the hands of each other. We back up from the image that graces the form in front of us.

Lucifer found us, the one to blame for all of this, his fault. I feel hate for the first time, disgust, they want to kill one of our own; looking up at me, they squeeze my hand shaking their head no.

All I see is Lucifer grinning, seemingly overly pleased with himself. Surprise crosses his face seeing me here, that smirk I have seen before, but I always had Aziraphale to save me from him, and where was he now? Mother took him.

"Well, well lookie who fell with the rest of us, not so innocent hmmm, "Crawley"?" he grinned.

"Crawley,"?" I had to question..~I didn't know why he would call me that.~

"Yes, you can turn into a snake; we all know that, so, if you hadn't noticed she even took our names from us, and well since our celestial names are out the question, let's call you that, makes sense to me." Lucifer nodded.

"Okay, Crawley, then, for now, it will have to do. What are we to do now, since you apparently are what to all of us? Lord, King ?"

Learning what I can from him, it's the only way, and I thought it was an important question to ask, that was before the salacious grin that crossed his face.

"Well, let's see, no protection for you down here, Crawley, where's your Principality now? Hmm, you should have accepted me, when I would have been nice; now, well, I can play with you whenever I want, and oh, trust me, it will often be."

Taking three steps back and away from him, Bee stands in front of me, holding their hands up in front of them. Giving me a moment to think.

I want to run, how could this be my fate, how could more go wrong, why, god, why would you forsake me like this? Then it occurs to me, we're all stuck down here; wherever here is, there has to be somewhere above.

"I can help, I can be useful! No one else here can get up top, I can, I can help, I will help, I promise. If you break me, you will never get out of here. Please let me help."

I begged. I would plead if I had to. Just don't touch me ever; I don't want to feel Lucifer's hands anywhere on me, now or ever, only Aziraphale.

Lucifer stopped as he took a step towards me, his eyes shifting from their gaze on me to looking up at the nowhere we now all lived. He had to think he was our leader now, and breaking his only still usable follower would do him any good; they would all be trapped down here forever.

"Not a bad idea there, Crawley; I suppose I have forever to play with you, you will mess up at some point, and when you do, I'll make sure to be the one delivering your punishment. So let's send you up top, start some trouble; I expect reports, annnnnd if you're good, I will give you breaks from around here. I know you won't survive underground, and we can't have my future plaything dead, now can we."

Turning as he finished his threat and what my job would be from here on out, he walked away, pulling Bee with him; looking back, they smiled at me. They saved me; we were even, for now.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Thank you, God, for small miracles; I adjusted my now blackened robes; my wings were at least the same as before. I let the shimmer of scales consume me; scales crawled up and across my body, down my arms, my stomach; I felt my body pull contorting into a coil. It felt good; it removed the pain. I healed and could feel my power strengthening; before it was noticed. I quickly headed for a hole in the wall and disappeared from view, traveling up to the surface, I could feel it, somewhere deep within my heart was light, I didn't forget, the bond was there, keeping myself in check, I made it to the top, it was hard going.

God looked down at Agnes, placing a gentle kiss upon her lips; she breathed her life back into her, opening her eyes, she looked up at God.

"I am sorry, so sorry," she said.

God's tears fell upon her face like raindrops during a storm. God's hand brushed across her cheeks. The pain of all weighed heavier upon her heart than that of each one of her creations falling. They were made by her hand, she felt each one breathe life, and she felt each one's pain and suffering.

"Stand Agnes, come to me, please."

Agnes placed her feet on the ground rushing into Gods' arms, holding her tightly; the two sobbed in each other's arms, trying to comfort each other. As God cried for her lost children, her lost creations, the ties that bind broken of her own will, a single prayer she sent out to all of them that remained,

~Forget.~

The battlefield that was Heaven held all the remaining angels, all of whom just stood there looking at each other, not understanding the pain they felt or the breaking in their hearts. Couples who once had a bond searched for each other, only to find the other dead, dying, or had fallen. Gabriel and Michael just stood there holding hands; numb, afraid to move, they stood silent white-knuckled, fearful that if they let go, they might fall or lose each other.

Aziraphale stood on the spot where his love, his life fell, his hand touching the hole that swallowed his love. It was still warm, Raphael's scent was still there, he could feel him. Somewhere below him, a cry from his beloved he heard him, he felt him, and as he dropped to his knees, his grace snapped, going numb—the final curse of her words, the last break of her champion.

Aziraphale stood, silently walking back to his training grounds. Numb, broken, his sword fell from his hand, leaving it flaming somewhere behind him. His once proud wings dragging behind him, broken, his head hanging, there was nothing left in him, pain. The other angels watched him go; they couldn't help the tears that fell for their protector.

Aziraphale walked by the bodies of angels he had discorporated. This time, they were gone forever; by his hand, he had killed so many of his kind, at her word. Limbs, wings from other angels during the battle, graced the field in a sickeningly sweet reminder of what had occurred.

The sound of angels mourning over brothers and sisters that were still bloody on the battlefield or gone forever, both sides had lost, there was no winning. Aziraphale was numb, there was nothing left, slowly her thought took hold, they started to forget, gradually all the angels began to forget, an eerie silence fell on Heaven.

New eyes opened in Eden, fresh legs and feet worked to stand, learning how to balance, to stand, new hands clasped together as they stood together, looking out over Eden. Lush green verdant, flowers of all colors, fruits that shimmered in the sun. A waterfall that splashed and sung against the beating of water on rocks. The mist creating colors in the sky; they looked in amazement.

Butterflies flew, colors so many colors, Raphael had outdone himself. The woman who hadn't been named yet saw the blue roses on the wall and went to them, her hand touched the softest of petals, their smell beyond intoxicating, their thorns reaching out, she felt one and yelped as a single drop of blood, human blood was spilled for the first time in all of the world that would come to be.

Coming up from the ground, I watched as they touched what I created. I felt hate and jealousy seeing her touch my flower, my angel's memory, for me to remember him by. I sighed; I couldn't help it; I just was so confused and in pain. Who knows how long we had been down below, or Hell, as it called now.

Slithering on the ground, I found her tree where I was told to place it, where I had obeyed openly; I saw God's tree in the center, reaching towards the heavens; I climbed it, needing the sun, I was so cold. The tree had a new scent; I hated it; it was angellic, something that I would never be again, but I could tell the smell would draw the humans to it.

I wondered why God would want this tree here if it would bring the humans to it? She said they can't eat from it; it would teach them good from evil. Then again, why would that be bad? I know the difference; why shouldn't they. I wondered, well, I was told to cause trouble, and I am a demon now. That doesn't seem too bad, does it? Just take a bite, and I am good; he'll leave me alone. I have to.

Aziraphale stood in his training grounds; anger, hate, loss filled him as he stood looking at the emptiness he found. Blaming himself for training them all, to him every angel that fell, the ones that didn't and the ones who were gone forever, it was his fault.

God came to him, still covered in golden blood of those that fell from his blade, sweat covered, exhausted, pissed, and broken. His fury could be felt before you even entered the training grounds; other angels stood outside of it, none daring to get any closer to him...

"Aziraphale, please come to me." God barely spoke above a whisper.

Turning towards the voice that called, his eyes burned with a glare that would have discorporated an entire legion of angels. Seeing who called, he softened when he saw her. His anger wasn't towards her; he was forgetting, something pulled on him, some thread of life that he was losing.

God owed her first creation some form of saving; she owed him this. She had taken her most precious of creations and broke them, all for forwarding her ineffable plan.

"Yes, God." he came to stand in front of her, his head still bowed in mourning.

"I have a job for you and only you. Are you up for it?"

Aziraphale paused in his answer, lifting his head and looking at her, taking in her light, seeing her in all her glory before lowering his head once more.

"Another job? Here in Heaven? What could be left to do, I will do as you ask, as always lord." Slowly God shook her head, watching him closely.

"No, Aziraphale, I am sending you to Earth; you are the only one I trust with this."

He listened to her every word, something about the way she spoke was lulling his feelings, luring him into forgetting.

"What is it?" he waited.

"I need you to guard Eden and humans. You come to be known as The Guardian of the Eastern Gate. Heaven needs time to repair, and no one is going to do anything right now; they are afraid of falling."

Nodding, Aziraphale turned to leave, to head to Earth. Doing God's bidding once again.

"Aziraphale, I am sorry, with all my heart, for everything."

Aziraphale stopped, a haze covering his eyes, her last blessing she could give him; turning once the fog lifted, Aziraphale looked at her.

"For what my lord, you've done nothing, they chose to fall, I did what I had too."

With his last words to her, Aziraphale turned, snapping his fingers, he changed into a white robe with gold embroidery. God's heart broke more; she could see the fading green colors that were Raphaels fading within his robes.

~He's forgotten, ~ she thought to herself.

Aziraphale opened his wings and flew at breakneck speed to his new position on the eastern gate. As he landed, he looked out over Eden. He hadn't been here since it was created, and for the life of him, he couldn't remember which angels did this, but it was beautiful. His grace tugged on his heart; he knew he should know who made Eden, but couldn't he remember.

Instead of dwelling on it, he paced the entire walkway and saw the humans, holding hands and walking towards the waterfall; he smiled as he could already sense the love of the two; something in him broke away, it was small, but something caused his heart to thump. Placing his hand over his heart, he could feel warmth, his heartbeat.

Watching the humans from the treetop, I felt a pull; I tried to ignore it but couldn't, so reluctantly, I lifted my head up and looked to my left, and there, watching the humans was Aziraphale. I couldn't help the shock, I couldn't breath and I fell out of the tree, right out of it, the landing hurt, snake or not, it hurt. Why was he here? Was this a cruel joke that God was doing to me now? As if I hadn't already been cursed, forgotten, and now this? I didn't want to hope, but there it was blooming in my chest, hope.

The heart I wish I didn't have, yet another curse now, dead and cold suddenly thumped, even broken it thumped. I hurt so bad, though my grace tried to sing. I felt as it pulled, reaching for Aziraphale, but I remembered God's words; the fallen would be forgotten, so my angel wouldn't remember me.

I can fix it though, she said I could; I remembered that she had said I could fix it. I need to take care of the humans first and trouble, then I can talk with him. I hope he doesn't kill me, though. I can hope, right, he wouldn't, would he? Even if he did, it would be one misery gone by another hand. I guess I will find out because I don't want to be here without him.

Lips touched, tongues tasted, hands roamed along with new bodies, new sounds filled the air. Aziraphale blushed and felt awkward watching this, but he couldn't take his eyes off it; something about it broke something else away from his grace as it tried to move within him. He was stuck just watching as Adam moved between her legs, and she arched up crying out.

Then he noticed a rather large snake climbing up a strange tree in the middle of this beautiful garden, it looked right at him, and he felt the need to wave at it. Lifting his hand, Aziraphale caught himself smiling as he waved at an enormous serpent. Blushing brightly, he dropped his hand and stalked off to the Eastern Gate.

"What the fuck was that," he asked himself, looking at his hand as though it had done some evil against him.

"Pull your shit together." he shook his head and wandered back to the gate.

The blue roses caught his attention, and he touched them. Lightly at first, something in them felt familiar, something.

"Wow, these are beautiful, the same color as my eyes; I wonder if God made these?"

I was dumbfounded and internally shaking as I watched him walk away, mumbling something to himself.

He waved at me, he waved at me. God. Why did he wave at me, like you'd answer, but he waved? He's touching my roses, his roses. He likes them. I think I am going to die. I need to finish this so I can go talk to him. Right, time to make trouble.

I waited for the two to finish and smiled inside, remembering myself and Aziraphale together. Slithering over, I got Eve's attention and used my persuasion, which I turned into temptation.

"Eat the apple eve, it will give you knowledge of all, just a taste, a small bite is all you need, God won't even know. Trussssst meee. Eve trusssst me." I cooed in her ear.

Eve listened and took an apple. She looked at it and then at me.

"Trussssssst me, tassssste the apple, Eve, trusssssssst me"

Eve bit into the apple and then woke Adam, who was in shock, but she talked him into trying the apple.

Well, that worked out well; time to go find Aziraphale; my job here is done; where are you, my love? I know you like the wall, oh wait, knowing you, you're guarding that one gate. Right. Of course, you would be.

Aziraphale caught the ending of Adam taking a bite and rushed down, trying to explain what he was and that they had to leave, had to go now. He broke open a spot in the wall with a snap of his fingers and handed Adam his sword.

Telling him not to ask, but they had to go and not let the sun go down them here. Quickly Aziraphale flew back up to his post, nervously standing there watching the humans leave. Wringing his hands nervously together when suddenly a large iridescent black snake came up and transformed into a demon; it had wings; it had iridescent black wings.

~SNAP~ Something else broke in his grace, who started to move a little more freely, reaching for the demon next to him.

"Well, that went down like a lead balloon."

"Yes, sorry, what?"

I smiled inside as he spoke to me; he didn't smite me, that's a relief, but why is he so nervous?

"I said that went down like a lead balloon."

"Yes, quite..umm," he waited.

Oh my heart, oh god, well Satan..no, someone. He asked my name, don't smile, shit, I'm smiling, speak, you dumb ass.

"Crawley." shit, shit, shit, I'm smiling.

Aziraphale nodded, we continued to talk while we watched Adam and Eve leave the garden. Storm clouds started rolling in around us. Raindrops fell on us, and suddenly a pure white wing with silver tips was over my head, shielding me from the rain; I cautiously took a few steps closer.

Don't discorporate, don't discorporate, please. I can't look up, it's his wings, shit, I looked up. Okay, don't squirm, don't gasp, don't do anything, and there goes my hand, whyyyy, I am going to have to work on this, what am I doing, I am holding his hand, I am going to be smote.

Aziraphale was just as confused as to why he felt the absolute need to protect this demon, and this storm was irritating him. It had the audacity to rain on Crawley, his brain was fried when he suddenly felt soft, very warm fingers lace with his; it felt as if they were meant to be there, without his permission, his fingers closed around the demons, and they stood there holding hands on the wall.

He should have been smiting him, something, pretty sure holding hands was not the thing to be doing, but he didn't care at this moment. It was right.

That's it, I am dead, I died from the fall, this is some weird version of Heaven, and I am in it. Right, right? He's holding my hand back, not running away. Does he remember, does he know me. Please mouth say nothing. Let me enjoy this, please.

"So, isn't holding my hand against the rules?"

What the actual FUCK, mouth SHUT UP!!

"Well, technically, I guess it would be, but, to be honest, I am a tad bit, well, scared. I still feel lost from the fall, forgive me for bringing it up, I know it is still fresh, but I can't remember all of it, and now I am here on Earth; I can't remember who made the garden, but I feel that I do, I have to watch the humans and well, that was awkward. Now they are gone, not sure what I am supposed to do next, and this feels right?" he held up my hand in his own, shrugged, and placed it back down.

Oh, my poor angel. My love, I am so, so sorry.

"I see, well. I think that is as honest as it gets. Has she contacted you yet? Probably not, wish I could be there when you tell her you gave away your sword, but if I was, she might very well smite me, and I really don't want to go back down."

I looked up at that beautiful wing. Letting go of Aziraphale's hand and was rewarded with a disgruntled noise; I smiled, reaching up, I placed my hands in the feathers and brought it down carefully; again, this rewarded me with a gasp and a thoroughly flustered Principality.

"You've had that up there for a while; let me see if I can help it out a little."

Aziraphale looked skeptical but nodded.

"Let me know if this hurts; this is all new to me as well."

I ran my fingers through the feathers, savoring the touch, warmth poured from my fingertips into the bones, and where the wing met Aziraphale's back, feathers fluffed and ruffled under my touch, reaching for my hands to come back.

"Feel better?"

They knew, his wings remember my touch, they remember me. Don't cry, of all the, don't cry, dear go...oh whatever, just DO.NOT.CRY.

"Yes, quite, thank you." he angelically smiled at me.

He can't do that to me. Stop smiling like that; please, can I just kiss him? Would that bring his memory back? No better not, that might be too much; I did get to touch his wing, though. Maybe a little kiss, wait. Am I leaning into to kiss him? Oh, Hell no. Back up, back up...that's right, breath, breath.

"So, stationed on Earth are you, well, me too. I guess we'll be seeing each other out there then?" I smiled

"Yes, I guess, fighting each other?" he asked.

"Oh, I hope not; I just tempt angel, nothing more."

"Angel, you called me an angel? Why do I know that?" he looked forward.

"That's what you are, angel and absolute Angel. I gotta go, lots to do, and lots to see." with that, I flew off in a blur.

Well, great, already calling him his name, I just can't help it, he's real, and he's here, on Earth, with me, forever, unless of course, he's called back. Make note, he can't get called back; I won't let it happen. He is mine, and I will get him back.


	8. Flood of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding the garden was easy, but as the two discover  
> leaving it is harder. Confusions takes hold of Aziraphale  
> who doesn't understand the why, and how comes, where  
> as Crawley is trying his hardest to stay away from Hell.
> 
> The years come and go and we travel with our dynamic duo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW Parts - Travelling through time

**Chapter Eight**

_Flood of Hope_

**[Chapter Eight, Playlist - Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi6Cb3McLB4g5_yKfXBroDE4) **

~Watching Crawley leave, I find I am more confused than I was before I came to guard the Eastern Gate. Why did God send me here? There truly was no gate to protect; it was a wall that a demon quite quickly slithered up and joined me, after he tempted Eve, of course.

For some reason, I find that slightly amusing. Was that really being evil or just mischievous?

Crawley is gone, Adam and Eve are now gone; there is a hole in the wall I made, my sword is gone, giving it to the humans, helping their escape, and me, God's Principality, protecting a demon?

I'm standing alone; this is wrong. What is happening to me? Is it the garden? Was it the Fall? Something is changing here; I can feel it.

My hand can still feel the warmth that radiated from Crawley; why does it fill me. Why does his shape fill the hole I have in my soul? Why did his hand fit in mine like a puzzle piece? Why does a demon calm me? Why does he calm me, reassure me? Why does my heart feel as though I will miss him?

Why am I alone? I might as well have fallen with the rest; I am just as alone here.~

As Aziraphale pondered all the questions he could have never asked in Heaven, his breath hitched, realizing he wanted to find Crawley again. Feeling that he genuinely didn't care why he wanted Crawley to come back, Aziraphale, well, just didn't understand.

Slowly he walked back to the roses he found upon his arrival. Choosing one, he plucked it carefully, blessing it with a small miracle before putting it away. Gently he caressed it, one perfect rose, the first of its kind, having been made by his love, for him, he just didn't know it yet.

A single thought worried him, what if anyone found out that he had held the hand of a demon while protecting him from the storm? Even worse was the idea of never seeing Crawley again. Aziraphale almost started panicking at the thought of never seeing him. His breath came faster and quicker than was needed for his corporation; in fact, he didn't need air at all, but the panic was real enough.

His grace wept, knowing the soul that had touched Aziraphale's wing had healed him. Remembered the hand that Aziraphale had held in his own, the smile that beamed for him as a loving nickname was uttered. Aziraphale's' heart, his soul, remembered, and he didn't know why; he didn't know that he was part of an ineffable plan, that his love story was just beginning on Earth.

Trying to calm his nerves, Aziraphale looked at the hole he had made in the wall to help the humans escape. Carefully one by one, without using a miracle, he replaced the stones, closing the hole and hiding Eden away for all time.

~Well, at least that's fixed, but now what? Maybe I should just follow them, maybe follow Crawley? Make sure they don't get up to anything demonic. What am I going to do about my sword? Maybe God won't notice.~

Aziraphale had fixed the hole in the wall, having double checked everything, he was planning on leaving, but as he took his first step away from Eden, God shone her light on him, asking him where his sword went, as he lied horribly, God took her light off him and laughed for the first time since the Fall in her spire.

"You never were a good fibber Aziraphale, nice to see you still aren't good at it."

\-------->>>>>time passes....Mesopotamia 3004 BC  
Aziraphale stood in a cart, wringing his hands as he waited for the skies to open and the rains to fall. He knew he was to be on the Ark when the time came, but Aziraphale couldn't help the pain he felt in his heart for the humans that would lose their lives. For the children that danced and played with the animals as they boarded Moses Ark.

All these years on Earth, being alone, feeling as though he was the only one here, watching humans born, and seeing them die was grating on him the wrong way. He found he was slightly panicked about everything these days; every new idea the humans came up with tended to end in heartbreak.

Though he couldn't help the feeling of missing a particular demon, most of the time. Aziraphale kept that under wraps for fear of being found out. Still, anytime he heard anything about a miracle or some odd mischievousness that happened, he would look into it, hoping beyond hope of running into Crawley again.

Hearing about mischievous deeds being done always brought a smile to his lips, knowing full well that Crawley was somewhere near. Always a step behind Crawley, still catching the end results of whatever playfulness the demon had gotten into, a quick miracle to set things right, and Aziraphale would wander off alone.

Always alone.

"Hello, Aziraphale!"

Aziraphale jumped, his hand going out to catch himself, before pulling it back and wringing his hands again. It was Crawley. Trying to hide the smile that threatened to beam from his face, Aziraphale continued to wring his hands. Keeping himself from reaching out to touch Crawley's hand, to hold it within his own, wanting to feel, remembering the warmth that he held a long time ago.

"Oh, hello."

Crawley couldn't help the smile, nor the look that he gave, had Aziraphale looked at that moment, he would have been able to read Crawly like a book, but such are missed moments in any love story.

"So, what's all this about then?"

Aziraphale waved towards the Ark and the people, his nervousness was palpable, and Crawley didn't like seeing his angel like this. It was a new side of his angel that he found upset him.

Quickly as he glanced over his angel, he wondered if God had left him alone with the humans. Even Crawley wasn't alone. Hell had more often than not sent him to do things on the surface. Even going so far as to let him come back to chat with Bee for awhile.

"God's a bit tetchy, big flood."

Crawley looked around at all the humans, noticing the children playing, chasing around some of the animals...innocence.

"God's going to drown everyone? Not the kids! You can't kill kids!?!?"

Aziraphale nodded, adding in a relatively high pitched ~Mhmm~

Crawley was gobsmacked. It was apparent that Aziraphale was not happy with the situation, but as he tried to say, It was God's will and was ineffable.

"Are you going to say Ineffable?"

Aziraphale looked at his hands and then back towards the Ark. Still, Crawley couldn't help but look at his angel and hope for something. A hint of anything, as Crawley's hand, reached for Aziraphale's, the rain started, there would be no wing this time, both needed to flee.

\----------------------->>>>time passes Golgotha 33 AD  
Aziraphale walked beside Jesus as he carried the cross to his final place of crucifixion. How he wanted to heal him, take away his pain, but as he walked, he could hear Jesus telling him to not help, to stay with him till the end. This went against everything he was made for, standing there barely contained.

If he couldn't heal him, he wasn't allowed to defend God's son, then what was Aziraphale for? Why was he here? Aziraphale decided he would stay there until the end; he wouldn't leave his side till the last breath left Jesus.

Something about that thought, something about seeing him in pain, brought a tugging memory; he couldn't quite place it. Still, he waited with Jesus, holding back tears that threatened to fall from his blue eyes.

Crawley came up next to him,

"Aziraphale, coming to gloat?"...Me, gloat, no!"

Aziraphale seemed deeply offended.

~I hurt him and what he is, of course, he wouldn't be here gloating; he's suffering just as much—defender of God and all therein.~ Crawley couldn't help feeling the pain that wracked Aziraphale, realizing that God even took that away from him.

"My name, I changed it, Crawley was too squirm at your feetish."

"Well, you were a snake, so what is it, Asmodeus."

"Crowley"

Aziraphale seemed to hum in approval as he tilted his head.

Crowley looked at his face and could see the final pain in his face as Jesus passed on to his mother. Aziraphale went to reach forward; Crowley touched Aziraphale's shoulder, pulling him back just a bit.

"Let's take us away from here, Angel, there is nothing left here. You don't need to be here for this; you stayed long enough. No one else did."

"You did, Crowley."

Gently Crowley turned Aziraphale away from the site, and the two walked away together; Crowley snapped up a jug of wine, sharing it as they walked together. Finding an overhang that looked out over the desert, together they sat and talked. It had been a very long time, too long if one was to ask either the angel or the demon.

"Crowley, why are you here?"

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, who was sitting closer than need be. Crowley's excuse? It was easier to get the alcohol; Aziraphale really couldn't argue, nor did he want him any further; if anything, he wanted him closer.

"Well, he seemed like a nice lad, so I showed him all the kingdoms of the world. Though I am sure there will be some twist that I was trying to tempt him, I really wasn't. He was just very bright and a pleasant sort."

Crowley tipped the jug back, realizing that it was empty; a quick shake of the pitcher and a look inside of it, and Crowley knew it was empty. Placing it down in the ground was when he caught a longing glance from Aziraphale from Crowley's mouth to his neck and back to his mouth. A shiver soared through Crowley's body, pulling his shawl around him just a tad tighter as though he was chilled.

Quickly Crowley snapped another jug of alcohol onto his lap, anything to break the awkward amount of tension that was brewing between them. Taking a long drink, Crowley went to pass it to Aziraphale. Turning Aziraphale was right there; his leg was touching Aziraphale leg, another point of contact that seared into Crowley.

A very drunk Principality was looking at Crowley. Something in his eyes was different, a recognition, something that made Crowleys heart sing. Somehow Crowley felt very naked and devoured by an angel; it had been a very long time. Crowley cleared his throat, trying to break the silence that had befallen them, turning to look at Aziraphale.

"You alr----" Crowley was cut off by Aziraphale...

"You 'ave the moosstt beautiful eyes, do you know that?"

Aziraphale asked; he was serious. Crowley almost laughed, he knew that inside Aziraphale, his grace and soul were fighting a war between them to keep him quiet, but his mouth had taken over, so now was the time to ask things.

"I did not know that; please tell me more, angel." Crowley nodded.

"I love when you call me angel, it was like before, you remember before, the stars, why don't we visit the stars anymore?"

Crowley almost discorporated and then fell through the world.

"Angel? What do you remember?"

Aziraphale shrugged and grabbed him by the back of his head, pulling him in...

"This."

Aziraphale kissed Crowley like he had been starved from him for thousands of years. They stayed that way for hours, until they fell asleep together, Aziraphales wings around them both; it was the first time since the Fall that Crowley had no nightmares.

When they woke, Aziraphale looked confused and achy; his wings had been on a rock all night; Crowley helped adjust that, neither said anything, just agreeing to meet again.

\--------------->>>>Time Moves On - Rome 41 AD  
~I had just finished all my temptations for the year and got a commendation. Thank Satan for a vacation for the rest of the month nice. I felt Aziraphale here somewhere, so I stopped in at the tavern to get a drink. It had been eight years since that night, and still, my heart ached. I needed more of him; I needed him back, always.~

Crowley asked for whatever was drinkable, getting a snide reply and a jug of brown, whatever that was. Listening for Aziraphale, Crowley smirked inwardly hearing Aziraphale's use of "fancy." As Aziraphale accidentally tried to tempt him, Crowley couldn't hide the grin that managed to move across his face.

Now Crowley had eaten some questionable things as the years had traveled on, but oysters hit differently. They looked like snot on a shell.  
Though after some prodding, Aziraphale managed to get Crowley to come with him to the restaurant; he could just get drinks if need be.

Crowley followed him, seeing how happy he was to have Crowleys company kept a smile on Crowley's face. Aziraphale was far more optimistic than the last time Crowley had seen him, and apparently, he found something enjoyable in food.

Crowley poked at the oyster as though they had done something to offend him, bringing laughter from Aziraphale.

"Crowley, don't poke at it; watch you do it like this."

Crowley watched intently as his angel picked up an oyster, placing it against his lower lip, and then much to Crowley's delight and horror, watched as it slid down Aziraphale's throat.

Crowley swallowed all too hard as he watched. Having to adjust in his own seat, and as he was about to say something, Aziraphale had picked up another and proceeded to swallow it. Crowley looked around the restaurant wondering why no one else was seeing this.

Another oyster was heading to a sinfully delicious mouth when Crowley reached out, taking Aziraphale by the wrist. Slowly pressing it back against the table, his eyes closed for a moment, taking a mind-clearing breath.

"Aziraphale, do not eat that, dear go..., someone. DO you know what you look like?"

Aziraphale shook his head. Crowley decided to show him, grinning at his shocked expression.

"Yeah, you understand now,"

Aziraphale nodded but didn't move. Crowley leaned over the table to ask what was wrong and whispered in his ear.

"What's wrong?"

A full blush took its rightful place over the bridge of Aziraphale's nose. Following Aziraphale's eyes Crowley looked down. Never having been as thankful for lunch as he was right now and oysters well, they had just become a favorite food, not only to watch his angel eat but apparently, Crowley eating them had an effect on Aziraphale as well.

Although, as Crowley sat back in his chair, his body and mind decided to register everything they had done together from the very beginning of time, till this very moment. Neither of us were leaving just yet, not in our current situation.

"I have a room, for the rest of the week, outside of town, little tavern, shall we?"

Aziraphale nodded; looking around the tavern, Crowley made sure no one was looking and snapped them both to his room above the pub. Aziraphale seemed to be able to breathe again, relieved not to be in the restaurant.

"So oysters, did you know they are aphrodisiacs, Angel? You really should look into what you eat, angel."

Aziraphale shook his head, but as Crowley looked at him, he not only could feel the confusion coming from him but the deep-seated concern.

"What's going on?"

Aziraphale straightened himself out and walked to the window. Looking out over the little town, he now found himself in. Crowley listened and poured them both a drink, getting up, placing the mug into Aziraphale's hand before sitting back down.

"You ever think about the last time we met? I mean, what happened?"

"Of course, more than I should if you want honesty. Why?"

"I can't stop thinking about it. I mean why did it happen? I didn't fall; nothing happened. Is it okay then?"

Aziraphale turned to Crowley, looking for some kind of an answer. Crowley didn't have an answer, but he wasn't about to tell Aziraphale to stop; he still remembered. Though in the back of his mind, Crowley couldn't let him fall either.

"I don't have answers, angel. No one asked me either or said anything; maybe it isn't something they worry about; I would think though that we shouldn't talk about it outside of a room though."

Crowley hadn't meant to make it sound like an offer, but Aziraphale sure as hell took it for one. Before Crowley knew it, he found himself being hiked up a wall. Aziraphale's' hands were sliding Crowley's legs around his waist.

Crowley's mouth was slowly being devoured with no sign of slowing or stopping. Aziraphale needed him, just as much as Crowley needed him; Crowley had no intention of stopping whatever this was. Realizing that they hadn't been drinking and this was for real, Crowley let himself fall into it. Aziraphale wanted him; Crowley could feel it; he was wanted by his angel.

Aziraphale's teeth scraped at Crowley's neck, letting his tongue travel to his collarbone, his hands-on Crowleys waist helping him move against Aziraphale. Crowley moved in a very serpentine way dragging a groan from somewhere deep inside Aziraphale taking Crowley's breath away.

"Zira..."

Crowley hadn't' meant for the name to sound full of adoration and love, but it did. Only seeming to urge Aziraphale on more. Aziraphale spun Crowley off the wall and onto the bed. Which when they landed, their clothes were gone. There was no talking, no debate, both wanted this, and with a Principality taking the lead, this was going to happen.

Crowley's soul and grace rejoiced, his heart started beating again. Crowley felt hope; he let himself feel this. Crowley let Aziraphale feel his grace; Crowley could feel it reaching for Aziraphale. Desperately, two souls, their graces touched, stopping Aziraphale looked into amber eyes as two graces intertwined. Pulling a groan out of Aziraphale, there was no going back now, another brick removed from the wall of memory.

God and Agnes saw the disturbance but not what it was, as a heavily fueled pulse of love ripped through the heavens, and a nebula far away reignited. God picked up Agnes and spun her, kissing her deeply, not caring who saw.

"Finally, their grace knows, they found each other, where it goes from here, I have no idea."

Agnes breathlessly reached up and pulled God back down to her with a giggle; God actually grinned.

"I think celebrating would be okay!"

While in Rome, Crowley had learned quickly that to survive with humans, you needed certain parts, and not liking what he saw most of the time, he decided to be male. Seemed the safest way to go, especially with the bathhouses; he didn't feel like being discorporated because of parts.

Aziraphale didn't care; Crowley wasn't sure where or when Azirpahale had learned anything that they were doing, especially being an angel, but Crowley let him do whatever it was he was doing. Crowley felt suddenly rather slippery, just as Aziraphale slowly slid his fingers inside of Crowley.

Crowley arched up against Azirapahel as he saw stars and nebulas. Aziraphale's fingers kept sliding over Crowley's prostate. Crowley was a panting mess; there was no time for anything else, this was desperation, and they couldn't get close to each other fast enough.

Sliding his fingers out, Crowley wasn't wholly prepared, but he didn't care; nothing could top being dropped into sulfur, and this was sheer pleasure. Crowley didn't care; he dug his heels in and pulled Aziraphale inside him, letting out a shriek. Aziraphale tried to stop and check on him, but Crowley finished pulling him inside me.

"Please, Aziraphale, please."

Crowley moaned and begged as something snapped in Aziraphale. He was remembering, and the more he remembered, the more desperate he became. Aziraphale's thrusts were staggered on purpose, drawing out Crowleys begs, his pleading, Aziraphales name, over and over again. Slowly Aziraphale's body remembered how to play Crowleys for as long as he wanted. Aziraphale slid into Crowley over and over again; his lips found Crowleys as he started to beg again, breathing in the breaths and pants that Crowley let out.

Aziraphale wouldn't let Crowley cum, and he needed to. Still, Crowley didn't want it to end. Finally, Crowley twisted his hips in such a way that it almost pushed Aziraphale over the edge; he looked at Crowley and flipped him onto his hands and knees. Taking Crowley from behind, his nails digging into Crowley's hips.

Secretly Crowley hoped that Aziraphales fingers would leave bruises, something to remember that this happened. Crowley recognized this particular position and rolled his back. Pressing himself deeper into Aziraphale, dragging out a moan, pushing back against him, harder and faster, meeting every thrust until Crowley could feel Aziraphale was almost there.

Aziraphale leaned over Crowley, gently biting into his neck. Worrying the flesh as his tongue licked out over the fresh bite. Crowley couldn't keep the sounds that were leaving him from echoing around the room as Aziraphale bit into Crowley's shoulder, feeling his hand wrap around his cock. Crowley's legs almost gave out as his forehead hit the pillows on the bed, only Aziraphale didn't stop.

"Cum for me, Crowley, only me."

Crowley did, calling out Aziraphale's name, his hands twisting in the bedclothes. Aziraphale followed his demon into bliss, keeping them together as they both rode out the waves of climax together.

Collapsing on the bed together, Aziraphale smiled as he breathed Crowley in, never wanting to forget the way Crowley smelled. Rolling onto his side, Aziraphale put his arm out for Crowley to curl into.

"I remember things. Flashes of things, but never the whole picture, why? Why is this right? Why are you, right? Why can't I see why? Why do I need this? Why does everything in me rejoice when I touch you?"

Aziraphale looked at Crowley. Crowley was waiting for Aziraphale to run, but he didn't; he pulled Crowley closer, letting his wings out, draping it protectively over him.

"I want to tell you, but I can't; it was part of our curse; we can never tell you or any angel anything. I am sorry. Maybe I should go."

Crowley went to leave, Aziraphale grabbed his arm.

"No, don't leave me, not now. Please."

Something in Aziraphale's voice was desperation and fear. Crowley nodded at him and curled back up under his wing, laying his head on Aziraphale's chest, hearing a heartbeat that only the two of them had.

For now, for this moment, all was right; what would happen when he realized who I was.


	9. Sometimes, Sacrifice is Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time continues but not without its pain and  
> suffering. Upon waking in Aziraphale's arms  
> a scroll has appeared, from Hell. Crowley panics how  
> could he not, he was supposed to be free of his lot  
> for awhile. Crowley decides to sacrifice himself to  
> save his angel, although things do not go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//Celestial Blood, Some Violence and the threat of NonConsent(nothing scene or described only hinted at)

**Chapter Nine**

_Sometimes, Sacrifice is Better_

**[Chapter Nine, Playlist - Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi49ABAlH44lFlYxskauAzCm) **

~I woke under the protection of one very heavy wing and curled closer to where the warmth was coming from, inhaling deeply. I just couldn't help the sigh that left my body; I was home, I was with Aziraphale, I had always remembered him from the very beginning. Opening my eyes for the first time and seeing those eyes looking at me, that smile, his touch.

He had wanted me, right? I wasn't tempting anything; I didn't even say anything. What if it wasn't that at all. Stop Crowley, stop thinking like that, he's remembering. Please Go--, fuck, please let him be remembering.

I carefully ran my fingers, moving his hair off his face; he was still as just as beautiful as I remembered, even better this close. Well, in reality, even more so when, shit, am I blushing again, for fucks sake. This is pathetic. I am a demon, after all, sighing, blushing, what the Hell is happening. I need to pull my shit together.~

Crowley carefully slid out from under Aziraphale's wing when he noticed a scroll on the floor. Crowley instantly panicked, looking around the room. Crowley slowly walked over to the scroll, looking down at it before he picked it up. He could see he had every right to panic; it was from his lot...Fuck.

The scroll was picked up and unrolled; slowly, Crowley let his eyes scan over the words, once, twice, and a third time. He could feel his stomach turn, his head hurt, and then Crowley really started to panic. He was on vacation; he wasn't supposed to be being followed; Crowley didn't have to answer for anything but this; he couldn't avoid this.

Placing the scroll on top of Aziraphale's armor, he could only hope his angel would find it, and the scroll would still be there. Only above a whisper, Crowley whimpered out...

"I am so sorry for this, Angel."

Crowley pulled his daggers and looked at them, and then at Aziraphale. Knowing if he cut him with his blades, it was going to end badly. Crowley looked for and found a loophole; the scroll didn't say he had to use his daggers. Crowley quickly put his away and picked up Aziraphale's, feeling the burn of divinity scalding his hands just as severely as the sulfur.

Crowley held his breath before he jumped up onto the bed. His legs on either side of Aziraphale, straddling him, raising his arms, Crowley held the daggers in his bleeding hands. Looking up to the Heavens above, Crowley prayed to a God that would never hear him.

"Aziraphale, wake the fuck up! Do something..please..."

Crowley sobbed; Aziraphale's eyes flew open right as the daggers Crowley was wielding came down on either side of Aziraphale's head. Crowley buried the blades into the bed, missing Aziraphale completely, but he didn't miss Crowley.

Crowley was thanking whoever would hear him that Aziraphale didn't miss him. Even though Crowley didn't know that Aziraphale had a blade under the mattress, and he had grabbed it out of instinct. Being a warrior, he sliced it through the air catching Crowley as his foot kicked him to the wall where he crumpled to the floor.

Crowley's hand grabbed at the divine wound that was pumping his blood out. Crowley looked at Aziraphale; his eyes widened as he took in what happened. Then as Crowley watched, blue eyes fell to the wound, to the blood that swirled with gold and black blood dancing together in the pool that formed around Crowley.

"I'm sorry Angel, I missed you, I missed..you, I didn't hit you."

Crowley snapped, disappearing from the room; as he thought of the coast, he hoped he could die by the sea; he was too tired of all of this. Tired of not being able to tell his mate, his love, who they were. Finally, being with him again only to have Hell intervene again.

Crowley discovered all too quickly that Hell had other plans. As Crowley snapped, Hell grabbed him out of his own miracle, ending up on the floor in a torture chamber. His torture chamber. Lucifers torture chamber, he remembered this all too well. Crowley quietly begged,

"Please, someone help me. Not this again. Please, anything but this."

Aziraphale stood slowly from the bed, still in shock as he furled his wings back into place, completely confused. Walking to the blood that swirled like the night sky on the floor in the room he had shared with Crowley, he bent down, touching it. The blood swirled around his fingers, warm to the touch, almost holding life within itself.

"How, what are you?"

Aziraphale looked at the feathers that had fallen from Crowley's back when he hit the wall and kept the biggest one. Turning back towards his armor, he noticed something on it, shimmering in the light. Aziraphale saw the scroll, using Crowley's feather, he poked at it, as the feather touched the scroll, it unrolled for him. The words seemed to float on the parchment, flames holding the names, the letters and words onto the page. Aziraphale used the feather to move the scroll to read it better.

~Demon Crowley,

We know you were seen with the Principality Aziraphale.  
We expected you to use hellfire on him, not your wiles, and  
not the past you both have. Kill him, or you will be placed  
back into your torture chamber for a few years.

Lucifer will see to your torture this time, he says been long  
enough of waiting, plaything.

~Beelzebub, Dagon

Aziraphale grabbed the scroll with his hand; as soon as his divinity touched the parchment, it went up in flames. Aziraphale staggered back to the bed, the back of his knees bumping into the edge of the bed, knocking him down as he sat. His eyes looking around the room, trying to piece together what just happened. Aziraphale shook his head and remembered words, what did he say, what did Crowley say,

"Aziraphale, wake the fuck up! Do something..please..."

Aziraphale trembled as anger grew within him; he looked back at the blood on the floor and then to the bed where he had been lying down. The blades were still stuck in the mattress on either side of where Aziraphale's head was. Carefully he pulled them out; the realization hit him. Crowley had used Aziraphale's own daggers; they wouldn't have done anything to him. Crowley hadn't used his hell blades...as his anger and fury grew, Aziraphale realized Crowley sacrificed himself. To whatever was waiting for him in Hell, and he took a divine knife from Aziraphale to save him.

Lucifer strolled into the torture room; Crowley lay crumpled, leaning against a far wall as he bled out on the floor. Bright gold and black blood puddled around him. Lucifer sniffed the air and groaned outwardly, a grin on his face...

"Oh Raphael, really, I can smell him on you, just couldn't say no, could you. Not that I blame you, I mean, really, who would want to say no to him. Certainly not me, certainly not you. Must be hard knowing that your bonded mate has no idea who you really are...."

Lucifers tongue ran across Crowley's face. Trying to pull away from him as he made a disgusted noise towards Lucifer.

"Oh come now, you think, I care about how I get to taste of him, and you, it's better than anything, I get everything in one. Plus, all that golden blood you have. Though keeping you from discorporating is the current challenge, still can fuck you while you bleed."

Crowley's eyes couldn't have gotten any wider if they tried.

"No. You can't, please, I was tempting Aziraphale; I was doing my job! Aren't I supposed to make him fall?"

Raphael's eyes dipped to the floor as the pain of that thought betrayed him.

"Oh little demon, you might be one of the first two created, but you really are a piss poor demon, you can't even lie to save yourself, but you will sacrifice yourself for him."

Lucifer felt something for a moment, just a moment.

"Tell you what. I can be nice if I want too, I know you had a rough day so far, and you're injured by a divine blade."

Lucifer grinned wickedly.

"Some advice, don't move too much when I fuck you, promise I'll go slow."

Raphael simply sobbed and tried to back away.

\------------------------------------------------------>>>>  
Kingdom of West Essex - 537 A.D.  
~Cautiously, I avoided Aziraphale for a long time once I was let go once I could move again. I had been causing issues again for about a hundred or so years, before that, I was healing, I slept a lot and didn't leave my snake form, for a few hundred years, can't really do much to a sna...well I don't want to remember that.

I was leading the rebels against King Arthur and became The Black Knight, ohhhh, very scary. Humans need better imaginative names for things, they can hurt each other better than I ever could, but the naming is lacking.~

"Sir! There was a message sent from one of King Arthurs men, Round Table, Sir Aziraphale, wanting to talk to you."

Crowley coughed on his ale and almost fell off his stool.

"When did THAT show up? When?" Crowley looked at him, waiting.

"A day or so ago, sir, we found it on a fallen soldier, and well, he's outside..umm, now?" At that, Crowley did fall off his stool.

"Oh, for fucks sake, man."

Crowley quickly stood and adjusted his armor. Quickly bringing down the front shield of his helmet, panic fully setting in. I could hear him; my heart thumped in joy as the rest of me died a little, my grace and soul shook in fear.

"Oh hi, yes, I am here to talk with the Black Knight?"

Crowley knew they were bringing Aziraphale closer and into an ambush, one that wasn't going to happen, of course. Crowley walked out, holding his hand up, stopping the humans from being dispatched by a Principality. Walking to meet with Aziraphale, Crowley figured he would have a little fun with it. Since Aziraphale didn't know it was Crowley.

"You have sought me out...blah blah....now death." Crowley grinned under his helmet as he watched Aziraphale cock an eyebrow in question.

"Is that YOU under there, Crawley?"

"Crowley"

Crowley flipped up my helmet, somewhat annoyed. Was he doing this on purpose at this point? Not like he didn't say Crowley's name more than he had ever said God's name that night. Dammit, Crowley couldn't help the grin or the memory.

Aziraphale's eyes looked Crowley up and down slowly; something in them was searching for something, but he said nothing, and just as quickly as concern was there, it was gone as irritation set in.

That was more like it, the ever impatient Principality that Crowley so loved and could never tell or even get close to again. Hell didn't know it was him here, they just knew an angel was here, and Crowley should discorporate them, not bloody likely.

"What are you getting at?"

Aziraphale looked more annoyed; Crowley could feel wrath dripping off him. Taking a step back, just a step, Crowley looked around, waving off the others.

"He's fine guys, I know him; he's alright. I am spreading foment."

"What is that a porridge?" Crowley sighed, ~leave it to him to think of food.~

"No, despair, you know."

"Well, I meant to be fomenting peace."

"So, we're both working very hard in damp places to cancel each other out?"

Crowley waited and watched as it dawned on Aziraphale that Crowley was right.

Of course, Crowley's ideas about working together just pissed Aziraphale off more; when did his angel get so fussy? Crowley watched as Aziraphale storm off; Crowley could breathe again. He could feel the battle warming up, and since Crowley's men were ready and good to go, he snapped to the highest levels of the castle and watched from a steeple top.

The battle of King Arthur raged on, and Aziraphale had been fighting as a human for some time now. Though that didn't keep his Divine Wrath under control or in check. This time though, Aziraphale was worried he had to be. There was someone on the field of battle that he had to make sure he didn't discorporate or kill. A particular demon that had shown back up, now of all times.

The Black Knight.  
~Ohhh, scary~ he thought to himself.

Aziraphale spun around, slamming his blade behind him and into another knight. The round table was winning, but King Arthur insisted on fighting, and Aziraphale was told not to intervene should he fall. It was part of her plan, though he was given free rein to do all he could to wipe out the evil.

Crowley was grinning like a fool on top of the castle, looking down. Watching his angel fight, it had been so long since the training grounds in Heaven, and Crowley knew his angel couldn't resist a battle. It was what he had been built for, but to actually get to watch him in full Principality mode was something entirely different.

Just as that thought crossed Crowley's mind, a blade came down and caught Aziraphale in his shoulder, deeply. Crowley was about to enter the fray, a glow only angels and demons could see, burned brighter than the stars pulsed off of my angel.

"Huh, well then, nevermind, Principality Aziraphale, the humans now have Pissed Off Principality Aziraphale...no need for me to be involved! Good luck, little humans.."

Crowley laughed as he enjoyed the show, but as Crowley watched, his jaw dropped as down below Aziraphale's form changed. Crowley saw the change, he remembered it all too clearly, and in every way, it could be from Heaven. Aziraphale's corporeal form was just that, an earthly form for humans to see, his actual celestial form, from Heaven, taller, the muscles working under his softness was wreaking havoc down below.

Crowley could feel the tendrils of Divine Wrath from Aziraphale hit the castle, reaching, looking, searching; as he watched, Crowley could see the tendrils coming from Aziraphale, whipping around him. He remembered watching that on his training grounds; he remembered the way his wrath loved him. Crowley recalled the way Aziraphale loved him.

Crowley reached into the nether and brought forth one of Aziraphale's heavenly curls he had cut off. The one thing that didn't burn up when Crowley fell. Looking down at the curl, he snapped them back away as he held back tears.

Crowley looked back down in time to see Aziraphale's blade slice through the humans like butter, a heavy thud, a sound of bone-crunching, and breaking under his weight and blade. The spray of blood as the bodies Aziraphale was cutting through covered his silver armor in blood. A strange coloring to see on his angel.

Crowley watched as a large knight ran towards Aziraphale to see him duck, roll and spin around. Slamming his blade into the ground, Aziraphale grabbed the opposing knight by the wrists and turned him around, slamming him fully to his knees. Crowley could not help the hitch in his breath or the fact that he was cheering inwardly to finish the knight off.

Crowley found himself wanting to end that knight himself, having tried to attack his angel, and before his thought was done, Aziraphale had grabbed his sword, the knight's sword slicing the knights head clean off. Now Aziraphale had two blades and was using them as quickly as a one-handed sword; this battle would be over soon.

Aziraphale was faster than any human could ever be; he was wiping out the opposing knights. An unstoppable force and Crowley decided it was safe for him to leave. He had no intention of hurting his angel, and if Crowley wasn't there for the end, Hell couldn't blame him for anything. They misjudged the strength of the angel on King Arthur's side. Crowley was only a temptation demon, so he quit the field before the battle was over; he had already done his part; it was up to the humans.

The battle ended oddly; Aziraphale's knight's won, but the King wouldn't stay out of conflict, and a lucky blow ended his life. A disappointing ending, but still a win; Heaven was pleased, Hell was pleased, and Crowley was told to go and enjoy a few days to himself. The next assignment would show up eventually.

"I am not riding that," Aziraphale said out loud as he eyed the horse. "I'll walk."

Finding an Inn far enough away from any further fighting that day, he decided to retire; secretly, he hoped they would have some books. Aziraphale really found he loved reading and had already been collecting books and first editions for years now. Even scrolls had been saved by him, from fires and floods alike. The Innkeeper beamed at him as he asked for a room and a bottle of red wine; handing him his items, he smiled and quietly blessed her and her line and retired to his room.

Dropping his bloodied armor in the corner, he plopped on the bed; in his travel clothes, he growled lightly to himself as he irritated the wound along his back. Aziraphale had all but forgotten that he had been hit rather well in the shoulder with a blade. Slowly standing, he looked in the mirror and saw a few other injuries he was unaware of.

"...well, damn."

Aziraphale reached back, finding the wound that was bleeding. He didn't want to miracle it away because then there would be paperwork and a call back to Heaven; he really didn't want to bother. Knowing he couldn't very well call upon a doctor, trying to explain golden blood was one thing, trying to explain golden blood that shone unto itself was another.

Conveniently from the open window, a particular demon decided to relax there, not having seen Aziraphale's blood just yet. Turning his head, Aziraphale tried to see his back. Wincing reaching the wound, he couldn't see with the mirror. Crowley's customary swagger stalled for a moment as he noticed his angel's hand was now covered in blood.

"Oi, wha' did you do? 'ere let me help."

Aziraphale had known him long enough now to trust him; he always had. Without saying a word about it, Aziraphale didn't forget what he read. Or what he knew happened to his friend. Aziraphale turned back around, his shirt covering the wound, was soaking up the blood, and was turning a strange sort of golden light. With a frustrated sigh, Crowley snapped his fingers to rid Aziraphale of the shirt covering the wound.

"Hey, you could have warned me. I could have hit you by accident." Aziraphale frowned, looking forward.

"With wha' blood?"

Crowley grinned, finally looking at the wound. It was then that he realized Aziraphale still had Divine Wrath lapping off him and reaching for Crowley's hands.

"Izz tha' going to be a problem, there, angel?"

"No, isn't fury, not mad, just likes to be there, hasn't been out in a while."

Aziraphale chuckled lightly; Crowley could hear how tired he was. Loneliness had taken hold of his angel; he could feel it, he could hear it. Crowley realized that he had been right. Aziraphale had been on Earth this entire time, alone, except for moments like these when Crowley was part of his path.

"If you say so, angel."

Crowley gingerly touched the tendrils that coiled around his angel; there was no pain. However, the tendrils did supply him with the much-needed information as to where his angel was in pain. Crowley was more than happy to sit behind his angel and have full reign to touch his bared back. The wound was in his upper shoulder, feeling just slightly to the front, a shine caught my eye, and Crowley grimaced.

"Aziraphale, there is metal in it; going to have to pull it out, just a warning."

Aziraphale nodded and hung his head so Crowley could get to the wound better. Nimble fingers traced the injury, Crowley let out just a small amount of healing. Slowly he started to pluck the offending metal from my angel's shoulders. Crowley might have pushed his luck just a bit as I gently retraced the wound, letting more healing caress it.

I noticed the tendrils' current brightened at each touch, and now the dancing tendrils of "wrath" were curling around my fingers, pulling me to touch Aziraphale's back.

Crowley's fingers traced a line from the top of Aziraphale's spine down to the top of his pants. Crowley waited, holding breath he didn't need, trying to hold back his own panic. Feeling the shiver from his angel, Crowley chanced his hands again, sliding them over Aziraphale's shoulders down his back. Crowley let his healing from a time before gently dance-off him.

What Crowley didn't expect was when Aziraphale leaned into his touch. What Crowley did notice was when "Wrath" had turned into something entirely else. Not sinful, not lust, but need and want, all bunched together and some form of loneliness. It was his grace, his heart, his soul, slowly ebbing away, a being of love, with no one to love.

Crowley didn't notice when Aziraphales hand reached up and took his in it, pulling Crowley into his lap, simply holding Crowley. Nothing more, the points of contact, his warmth. Crowley stiffened as panic set in. Crowley couldn't help it; he wanted to let it go. Crowley couldn't.

Crowley knew Aziraphale could feel it; he looked into Crowleys eyes as his hand turned Crowley's chin to look at him; he could see it. Aziraphale let go of him and letting Crowley just sit there; his breathing had stopped entirely.

"I am so sorry, Angel, Aziraphale, I, I....please."

Crowley sobbed and snapped; he was gone. Watching Aziraphale from afar for a long time, he couldn't get close to Aziraphale without having a complete breakdown, panic, and it was too much for his corporation to take.

Crowley had gotten cornered once by Aziraphale, without him realizing it was Crowley, and he discorporated at an Inn. It took weeks for Crowley to get his body back and explain how he was thwarted; Crowley blamed Hastur as he was in the area and said no other angels were there, let alone a Principality.

So Crowley got off pretty quickly.

Crowley didn't know what happened to Aziraphale after that; it was years later that he saw Aziraphale again, just in passing; they had lunch, just lunch, talking. Crowley brought up the working together to get things done, and surprisingly Aziraphale was agreeable to it. Things got better after that. Crowley started to not panic every time he saw his angel, and Hell left Crowley alone to do his thing on Earth.

\------------------------------------------->>>>  
Globe Theatre - 1601  
~I received a message to meet Aziraphale at the theatre; now I like the theatre as much as the next, but it has to be funny, and with Aziraphale calling the shots this time, it could be fucking anything. So, of course, I went. Walking in, it was empty,

~Oh for fucks sake, Angel~ There he was in all his glory, ~What the Hell is he wearing,~ I couldn't help but shake my head.

"Eating grapes, I see, and where are the crowds, Angel?"

I looked at him; the bastard blushed. Godammit.

"I thought you said there would be crowds; we'd blend in! Where is everyone."

"There was supposed to be." he looked at the ground; I knew it.

"Oh, it's one of thoossseeee."

I growled under my breath and notice his breath hitch at the growl. Sorry couldn't help the grin, oh, and here comes Shakespeare. I pointed him out to Aziraphale, who was giddy; I hate that.

I stood there and listened, watching my angel, then realized they asked Aziraphale a question about me being his friend. He denied it. Bastard.

~ That's not what you said before!~

"I don't know him.."

~Really angel, I can tell them what you taste like..~

After the third denial attempt and not being able to keep a straight face, I rescued him; of course, I did.

"I say, get on with the play."~

Aziraphale looked relieved, and Crowley figured now was as good a time as any to use the "Arrangement," plus it got Crowley a free blush, one of his downfalls when it came to the angel. Of course, it was; Crowley smirked as he won the coin toss. Aziraphale was going to have to ride the horse and not Crowley.

Then it happened, Crowley caught the end of what Shakespear had said and made the mistake of looking at his angel. Crowley growled lightly as his angel looked at him with those eyes, and then whether Aziraphale meant to or not, those blue eyes went from Crowley's amber eyes, to his mouth lingering for a moment and back to Crowley's eyes. That little pink tongue licked his lower lip; this angel was going to be the death of Crowley.

"Alright, fine, that's one on me."

"Really"

"Yes, fine." Bastard...  
\--------------------------------------------->>>Paris encroaching


	10. Agnes Nutter, Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agness time has come in God's  
> ineffable plan. Finding herself  
> on Earth hidden within a human form,  
> she is given her task...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - Chapter is needed to explain where Agnes falls into everything
> 
> No real Triggers

**Chapter Ten**

_Agnes Nutter, Witch_

**[Chapter Ten, Playlist - Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi7I7gm6q5sp77ua9pq3wszZ) **

Somewhere in England - 1601

God touched Agnes's arm; she turned her looking deeply into molten brown eyes, saying her final goodbye. Agnes's eyes widened at the unexpected goodbye, but before she could utter a sound, a light kiss brushed her lips, placing her in the deepest of sleep. God looked at her as she laid Agnes down onto the bed they had shared for eternity. God let a single tear run down her cheek; silently, that tear fell like a raindrop onto Agnes's lip. Life, a gift, and a curse were in God's tear.

A lovingly gentle hand touched Agnes's brow. God smoothed a wayward curl away from her face. God took in Agnes's face, one last time for years to come, her face of ivory and pink, of love and knowledge, a look that carried more of God's love in it than most.

Agnes was created by God, but as indirectly as possible. God's love created the angels, though she let so much love out that when she breathed life into the Heavens, her love overflowed and made Agnes. An angel of Earth, a love that would be created there, the knowledge that Agnes could pass onto the humans because Agnes would be among them as a human. Her miracles that matched gods as she was a god on the Earth.

Starlit emerald green eyes glowing with power, finally shut, closing out all light in the Heavens. God bent her head, and with one last kiss, her arms wrapped around Agnes. The Heavens heard the snap, felt their world shudder under the sadness of God, and they vanished. God envisioned a garden in a forest, of love and harmony, a direct response to Eden, but it would have everything she would need for Agnes.

The garden was beyond beautiful, rambling rivers, dancing flowers, trees that bloomed, plants, and animals that would work together. The glen would be Agnes's little bit of Heaven here on Earth, less than what she truly deserved, but such was God's ineffable plans. The one she loved the most would find comfort, but Agnes would have to be brave in the end.

A cottage made from within a weeping willow tree Agnes would call home. God gently entered the tree, placing her beautiful angel down onto a down-filled bed covering her. One last kiss on her forehead, while God was on Earth, and she left the cottage in the forest. One last gift as God waved her hands for Agnes; small angels appeared from the life that the trees held outside the cottage, all waiting for their Earth Angel to awaken.

"Your job in Eden is done; you will do the bidding of the angel inside, her name is Agnes, and she is mine. My heart, my grace, cries for what is to happen here in years to come. You cannot interfere when they come for her. Let her write, keep the garden and forest safe. The humans will rename you and her; to them, you will not be angels, but something else, what they will call her is more than my grace can handle."

The angels bowed to God, turning back to the cottage they waited for Agnes to awaken. God looked back one last time, blessing the cottage and the forest, one last bit of hope, one final blessing, one last gift of love. Inside the cottage, on a small table, a book appeared. The leather binding complete, the cover bearing an iridescent snake wrapped around a flaming sword.

God sighed, remembering when she first touched the book before any of this started; for her, it was the beginning of the end or the beginning of something greater. The story of an angel and a demon now rested in the hands of Agnes. In the end, all came down to what she wrote within the pages of that book: a love story, a story of her creations overcoming being mortal enemies, and all that followed.

It was in the hands of her angel, everything depended now on this one angel that created herself on her own out of love, out of determination, she was not only part of gods ineffable plan, but she was ineffable. God lifted her hand, ~SNAP~ a crack of lightning, the rumble and thundering of the skies opening crying as God left.

Agnes's eyes flashed open upon hearing thunder, hearing the crack that was God's heart breaking, seeing the violet flash of lightning. Agnes flew out of the bed that she didn't recognize, running to the only door she saw. Throwing it open, she looked for God and saw nothing but the forest. As beautiful as Eden. Seeing the small angels looking at her expectantly, but God was not there. Agnes tried snapping her fingers, tried calling for her, hearing no response feeling that God was gone.

Agnes fell to her knees, still trying to snap and go home. No matter how hard she tried, nothing happened. A small angel came to her and sat next to her, laying a small hand on her knee.

"It's okay, Agnes, she left us here for you. I am Ashanale, and I lead these angels, we've been here on Earth since the garden, and we've been expecting you." she tried to smile but could feel Agnes's pain.

"What do you mean, expecting me? Where am I? Why am I here.?," so many questions ran through her thoughts as tears streamed down her face.

"Maybe we could go in, this rain isn't normal. It's tears. We are small, and we can only handle so much of God's despair before we will start to break. Can you not feel her pain in the rain Agnes? You are an Earth Angel; you should feel it."

Agnes stood walking out into the rain, holding her arms out; she looked up, letting God's sorrow and pain fall on her. Agnes sobbed, feeling God's pain matching her own. What had she done wrong, why was she here, why? Ashanale came to her, pulling her inside with the other angels pushing her.

Closing the door, the angels started the fires in the fireplace. Drying Agnes off, the sorrow was too much for her. Agnes's grace all but laid bare on the floor in front of where she stood. Heartbroken in too many pieces to be mended. Her eyes fell upon a book, the shine of the flaming sword catching her eye.

"The book." slowly, walking to it.

Touching the book, Agnes recognized it. Her fingers opened its pages finding blank, the pages needed to be filled, then it all came to her. Agnes collapsed to the ground holding the book to her bosom, her grace, her heart all that she realized at the same time, the fall, the book she read, all of it that came to her as she "slept."

The angels moved her into the bed; they had promised and were commanded to keep Agnes safe. To keep her from discorporating, for there would be no coming back if she lost the body she had. Agnes's form was one she had created on her own out of God's love, and now, she was here on Earth. The angels knew that in Agnes's hands, she held the beginning and the ending of Earth. Agnes was an Earth Angel, and when her time was up, then and only then would she have her true form.

God could feel and saw that Agnes would not survive the realization of what her task was, her grace couldn't accept it, and her heart was in denial. God made Agnes dream. She came to her within that dream; she had no other choice; she was going to lose her angel for all eternity.

Agnes dreamt of the forest outside the cottages doors, and there she saw God, running to her Agnes clung to her love, sobbing, begging, pleading, but there was nothing God could do. This had to happen, and maybe even in God's ineffable plan, somehow, she thought to herself, she had become part of her own play.

God held her slowly, explaining what her task would be, what she couldn't tell her, God kept to herself. God gave Agnes her job, what she was expected to do, and against her better judgment, mentioned in passing, a particular angel and demon. Whatever Agnes did with the little information God gave her would be up to her, but Agnes would decide the end of this story. With that, she gave Agnes a proper kiss goodbye, turning to leave the dream. God heard Agnes's sob, heard when her knees hit the floor, and felt her pain even with what she had said to her.

"I will see you again, Agnes, my angel;.." God turned, smiling at her..."My love and heart, you are my grace, keep it safe till we see each other again; I can always hear you."

Agnes woke immediately, sitting up in her bed. The angels all breathed a sigh of relief. Dancing around smiling at Agnes as her entire being seemed to find purpose. The forest and all changed to meet her new outlook. Agnes glared at that damned book, though she started writing, and writing, and writing. The angels gathered all sorts of herbs, flowers, things she would need.

Humans started finding out about the woman in the woods, a beautiful being, hair of brown that glowed like fire in the sun, eyes of molten flames and gold, a woman that when looked at, you could lose your soul too, looking for too long would make you want her. Agnes could cure the sick, she helped the poor and the injured, and she kept writing in the book.

Agnes had no last name to speak of, only her first, as she was given by God. The village folk called her nutter because of the crazy things she did, and the more often than not, somethings she said. So it was then that the humans gave life to Agnes Nutter; shortly after her naming, a man came to the village.

He was ill and in desperate need of help. For as much as the humans called her horrific things and names, one that stayed the most was Witch. Unless, of course, they needed her, then it was Agnes, the healer, the helper, the wise woman, but more often than not, it was The Witch.

He was brought to her, unconscious, bleeding, injured, and covered in mud. Agnes saw him and had them bring him in immediately, laying him on her bed. Shooing away the village folk, she called forth her angels, her helpers, and the villagers called them sprites and fairies, but they were hers and loved them. A list of things she needed was given, and in no time, everything was in the cottage.

The water was warming, and Agnes moved off the man's clothing carefully; what looked to be a fatal wound across his abdomen, holding a slash over his arm, a bloodied bruise on his head, and a deep slice down his thigh. Agnes questioned herself if she would be able to save the man or if she could only keep him as comfortable as she could. Not even sure that he would wake.

Agnes looked at what needed to be removed; her hands hesitated. Taking a deep breath to ground herself and calming her nerves. Holding her breath, afraid of causing any further damage to the man, she cut the sides of his undergarments being as gentle as she could.

Agnes gasped as she looked sitting back on her heels. Ashanale looked at Agnes and then back at the "man"? There was no effort, there was no gender, only what appeared to be a mud-covered man? Quickly she grabbed the water with all the other angels helping her. Cleaning as gently as she could, Agnes still wasn't sure what to make of this. She hadn't seen another angel from Heaven in so many years, but now an injured one showed up in her glenn.

"Ashanale, any idea? I mean, before we start healing? " Ash just shook her head.

"Okay, well, we are going to do this differently than we normally do. I have everything I need here, and I can actually heal this angel without all of the herbs; I don't think an angel will hurt me for it. However, please keep the Glenn guard, let no one in, let them sleep, and snap them to their homes should they enter. I will deal with this, my little ones."

Ash nodded, backing away and pulling her wards and her angels with them.

"Ash, make sure your angel's little ones are kept safe, put them in the tree above the house, you know which one, the one we made for your young.!"

Agnes smiled as Ash blushed, and they all backed out of the house that held Agnes and an unknown angel.

Agnes quietly sat next to the angel. Taking in one of her own kind, one she didn't recognize but wondered if they would remember her. Her hands trembled as she gently touched each wound, letting healing flow from the Earth into the angel, her hands glowing a light pale green. From the trees and of the life that surrounded her, that fed her. What had kept her grace alive and moving forward to an end, she didn't yet.

Agnes felt a tug within her, light but gentle, love pulled her, she opened her eyes looking down at the angel. With water, she started to clean away the dirt from their hair. From their face, taking time on the wounds, each just as important as the last...

Agnes sat back on her heels; the angels clean hair started to dry into curls of strawberry blonde. A streak of fire and of ice flowing through it. Their skin of the softest ivory, standing, she let her hand run over the curls, gently touching the face of the angel. The tug on her grace stronger, infinitely more gentle, loving, more alive than moments before grasped at her own grace.

Agnes's eyes widening at the touch, her grace trembled, her heart reached out, her hand covered her mouth as she watched emerald green eyes open, looking up into her own. A smile that took her breath away as she fell to her knees next to the angel, her hand still resting in the other's chest, feeling the beat of a heart...

Tears fell from her eyes, running down her cheeks, as the angel sat up in the bed, the wounds closing on their own. Feeling a pull, a draw, a need, a want, of love never-ending flowed into her grace, twisting it within the angel's grace. Agnes crawled to the angel, looking up into emerald green eyes. The angel smiled at her, tilting her chin upwards; they kissed Agnes with all the love ever created, at any time, anywhere.

The Heavens couldn't have held the amount of love that flowed from the angel's grace into Agnes. The world shifted for a moment, seemingly stopped altogether; the angel let Agnes stand. Pulling her into their embrace. An embrace where the world could cease to exist, and only the two were there. Agnes remembered for a moment two angels in Heaven that she longed for the same love, the same bonding.

The angel looked at her, slowly up and down, tilting their head, expectantly. Agnes looked down at her earthly attire, then back at the angel who was now male. Agnes blushed brightly, but as his wings unfurled behind him, pure of white and silvers, tall, pooling on the floor behind him, under it all smaller wings the color of every color ever made flowing through them, Agnes understood.

Agnes let her earthly attire fall from her, leaving only the angelic robes that adorned her in Heaven. Falling about her in wispy fabrics, her hair fell into waves of molten fire and browns like the Earth at sunrise, her eyes fire in the light, her wings unfurling into the cottage sighing heavily, feeling free for the first time in years.

Agnes's wings made of iridescent light, of energy, and of every color flowed throughout, her feathers adorned with droplets of dew that glistened like diamonds in the morning light shined behind her.

Agnes looked back at the angel, emerald green eyes looking back at her, his hand held out to her she went to him. Her hand taking his, his arms wrapping around her waist, pressing her to him. Looking down at her, the smile unforgettable, the kiss even more so, she knew who it was, but not why. Agnes didn't care why; she only knew that God had come for her, to her, and was with her.

The kiss as gentle as a wind on a summer night and as warm as the sunsets on the lake in the Glenn. The world shifted for Agnes as she was lifted up against him; The Nether surrounded them, caressing them. In the dark, a light brighter than the sun wrapped around Agnes. Her grace held golden threads intertwining with the light. Agnes earthly body was being lifted against the angel, hands slowly running over her wings, her body; she gasped.

Agnes's lips were being kissed, a tongue lightly begged for entry, her lips parted, allowing for a deeper kiss, she kissed back. Outside the angels, witnessed the brightest of lights they had ever seen and quickly tried to surround the cottage keeping the light at bay. Ashanale peeked in and blushed, possibly more luminous than the light that was being emitted from the two in the cottage. Agnes breath hitched as the angel laid her back upon the bed, sliding into her. Slowly lovingly, carefully.

In The Nether, their graces made love to each other, twining, wrapping, touching, creating, creating life. Agnes gasped as she arched against the angel, making love to her, she called out, the closer she came to toppling into bliss, placing her hands on his face and looked at him.

"Open your eyes, please, for me." Saying nothing, he opened his eyes, looking deep into hers.

"I know you, I would never forget you, my heart."

An unexpected growl escaped him as he let his head fall to her neck and kissed it, biting her lightly,

"I missed you."

Agnes cried out at that voice; he pushed her further, letting all of his grace surround her bringing her to and over the edge with him. God pulled her into his arms and held her for what seemed like forever, but never enough time, for nowhere long enough, running his fingers through her wings, the feathers almost not even there.

"You are the most beautiful of them all, my angel, my Agnes." he smiled.

Agnes looked up into those eyes and smiled.

"I can't stay; I have to go, or they will come for you sooner, and you need to finish that book." he sat up, pulling her with him.

"I will be close by, never very far, for a while, talk, and I can hear you, need me, and I will be here. I think I am going to stay like this for a while. Seems to cause fewer issues with humans, and it was more than enjoyable." God grinned at her and kissed her nose.

Standing, God got out of the bed, pulling her up, standing her in front of him. God kissed her again, kneeling before her; pulling her closer, he placed a kiss on her stomach.

"I will be close."

Agnes looked at him and smiled before realizing what that meant, and the kiss to her stomach. God laughed cheerfully.

"Do not worry, my love, we created the one in there; I did not place it, was a corporeal thing, your grace was rather insistent."

God winked, kissing her, and was gone. Agnes stood there stunned and sat back on the bed; she lay back into the bed where it was still warm from his body and scent and fell into a deep sleep. The angels watching over the Glenn and Agnes, now as she was carrying a grace created child. Her line would continue.

Agnes kept working on the book, finally finishing it; she named it "The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch" she grinned at the Witch part, the smart ass that she was. Shortly after she went into labor for her child, God watched from above, trying not to interfere with the human proceedings. Still, she had angels already helping so, he stepped in and held her hand as the child was born, human, in all manners. Except they would carry on what Agnes knew, her knowledge and abilities would be carried on in her name, line, and book.

Agnes went on to finish a second manuscript, to be hidden away, for her descendant, knowing all she did, wrote a second copy for a fussy angel that would need it later, much later in life. A demon that would learn to love again even in the face of death, win back his angel, and be remembered.

Agnes smiled to herself finishing, and then looked up as she finished a letter, and smiled even brighter. The angels were saddened but happy for her.

"Watch over the Glenn, and keep my descendants safe, Ashanale." Agnes smiled and waited at the door.

"Thank you for all you've done all of you, I am okay with this, I am going home, my grace rejoices, please rejoice with me, don't be saddened." Agnes shifted her skirts and waited.

She heard them and opened the door. Walking directly out. Strangely she announced to no one in particular...

"You are late, and none should be near me now that it's this late, my fairies and sprites."

The angels all stayed far away and as high up as they could not let her do this alone, they all used what power they had to keep all pain and fear away from her, as they watched the humans tie her to a pole, and light it on fire. The angels all saw that glint in Agnes's eyes, that lift of an eyebrow and her eyes that looked up, and in that look, all her angels saw there,

~My Lord, My God, My love I am coming home, I did all I was supposed to, please take me home.~

...and with that, the end of the first true Earth Angel came to pass.

"BOOM"


	11. Remember Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley finds that he has finished his  
> tasks for the year, waiting for Hastur to  
> get back the scrolls and what he has  
> earned. When from nowhere a tug at his  
> grace pulls his attention, feeling his angels  
> anxiety-ridden corporation.
> 
> How on Earth did he arrive at the Bastille??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - Though no triggers

**Chapter Eleven**

_Remember Me_

**[Chapter Eleven, Playlist - Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi7Iixm79LGDI1PWjWABAxf8) **

Hastur looked at Crowley with a malicious grin going over all the devious things the temptation demon got around to doing.

"I am done for the year Hastur, just tell me what I got off."

Hastur frowned at Crowley, hating Crowley more and more with every year that passed.

"Don't get cocky Crowley; I can always have you brought back down; maybe it's time for another few years of readjusting." Hastur grinned wickedly.

Crowley internally panicked, but his outer countenance just showed annoyance; he had learned how to control his feelings, only showing what he chose to show outwardly.

"Better have a good reason, seeing as I am doing your work and my work, so do you really want them checking into that? Maybe it's your turn, for a little readjustment."

Crowley smugly said and watched as Hastur rechecked all of his temptations and realized that Crowley had indeed done more than his own work.

Growling, Hastur nodded, sending the reports with a snap; they both waited for the reports to come back signed and with what reward Crowley was granted. It took a bit for a scroll to show back up on the table between them; Crowley waited as Hastur just looked at them.

"Go ahead, I am not reading them for you." Crowley rolled his eyes in the sassiest way possible.

"Not really a becoming look Raphael..."

Hastur said with the utmost disgust. Crowley grabbed the scrolls and read them; a full-on smile crossed his lips for a moment before a tug on his grace grabbed him...

~ That's odd~ he placed a hand on his chest as he felt it.

Dropping the scrolls on the table, Crowley turned towards the pull and decidedly ignored Hastur. Feeling a more desperate pull on his grace, he stopped breathing, feeling it; Crowley hadn't felt that pull since Heaven.

"So how long did you get?"

Crowley's thoughts were broken for a moment...

" I don't need to read it for you."

Crowley walked out of the building and headed towards the pull. He waited for another attraction, feeling desperation, panicked, and slightly anxiety-ridden power.

"Angel?"

Crowley knew that anxiety, it was something that Aziraphale had picked up since the fall, and on Earth, it seemed more so. Crowley blamed God for it; his Angel was perfect before the fall, and as far as Crowley was concerned, God had abandoned Aziraphale just as much as himself. Save for one thing, Crowley wasn't always alone; Aziraphale was, for hundreds of years at a time.

As Crowley said the name, his grace screamed, turning him towards the tower and the guillotine.

"Really, Angel, the Bastille, what on Earth could YOU have done."

Crowley sighed to himself, becoming invisible to everyone, including Aziraphale; he snapped his fingers and thought of his Angel, finding himself inside a cell.

Crowley looked around, seeing his Angel sitting on a small stool. In the middle of the cell, the sunlight filtering in through the bars up above. Lighting Aziraphale up as though God's grace was shining on him.

Aziraphale's hair glowed like a halo taking Crowley's breath away, he remembered, and he had never forgotten. Seeing a spot to sit, Crowley quietly crossed the cell, sitting down in it, posing just a smidge.

Crowley watched as his Angel paced back and forth, as far as the chains would allow. Crowley found himself irritated at the state of his Angel being chained, and not by him. The chains rattled as he walked, his ankles, his wrists, Crowley appreciated the view as his thoughts turned towards desire, the jailor, his Angels executioner, entered the room.

Crowley watched, holding back the growl that was demanding to be released; his fangs more than visible; he was a demon; after all, possessiveness was at his core. The human dared to touch his Angel, touching his neck, Crowley almost jumped up, removing the human from all existence, but his Angel instantly stopped the jailor.

When Crowley saw when the human went to touch Aziraphale again, hearing the guillotine drop, Crowley had enough. Stopping time was something that Crowley had recently discovered he could do, and with a snap, time stopped. Crowley let his invisibility slide off him, grinning at his pose, waited for his Angel to notice him.

"Animals!" Aziraphale stated, irritated.

"Animals don't kill each other with big head cutting machines, Angel. Only humans do that."

"Crowley!"

Aziraphale said his name with so much love in his voice it hurt. Crowley almost fell out of his seat; his heart ached to hear him say that again. Then Aziraphale turned and looked at him, his eyes sparkling, bright, full of hope, love, and life. Crowley wondered if he caused that, was he remembering.

Aziraphale completely took in his demon, looking him up and down more than once before he couldn't help himself as he uttered.

"Good Lord!"

Crowley couldn't help but grin at the reaction; that was the reaction he wanted.

"What the deuce are you doing locked up in the Bastille?"

Crowley couldn't help the tilt in his head as confusion set in.

"I thought you were opening a book shop."

"Well, I was. I got peckish."

Aziraphale blushed more than he wanted; the color of sunset danced over the bridge of his nose.

"Peckish,"? Crowley let his head fall back against the cold stone of the cell.

"Well, if you must know, it was the crepes. You can't get decent ones  
anywhere but Paris, and the brioche."

Crowley did all he could from letting the laugh that bubbled up within from leaving his mouth; this was just perfect, his Angel being rather hedonistic.

"So you just popped across the Channel during a revolution because you wanted something to nibble? -Dressed like that?"

Crowley waited for an answer; he could see the gears in Aziraphale's head moving for a reasonable explanation.

"I have standards. I'd heard they were getting a bit carried away over here but--"

" Umm, yeah, this is not getting carried away. This is cutting off lots of  
people's heads very efficiently with a big head-cutting machine. Why didn't you just perform another miracle and go home?"

"I was reprimanded last month. They said I'd performed too many frivolous miracles. Got a strongly worded note from Gabriel."

Crowley let his thoughts flow freely. ~Of course, you have standards, my Angel, a fussy angel at that, frivolous miracles, you Aziraphale never.~ Hearing the name Gabriel brought Crowley back to the present, how he hated that name, that Archangel, after all the years on Earth, Crowley knew how poorly he treated Aziraphale.

"Well, you're lucky I was in the area."

"I suppose I am."

"Why are you here?"

"My lot sent me a commendation for outstanding job performance."

"So, all this is your demonic work?"

"No. The humans thought it up themselves. Nothing to do with me."

"Well, I suppose I should say thank you for the, uh, rescue."

" No, don't say that. If my people hear I rescued an angel, I'll be the one in trouble. And my lot do not send rude notes."

Crowley quickly remembered the last time Lucifer had found out he had saved Aziraphale, the time he didn't kill him; barely holding the panic back, Crowley took a deep grounding breath as he looked at his Angel.

"Well, anyway, I'm very grateful. What about if I buy you lunch?"

"Looking like that?"

Crowley chuckled at the severe eye-roll Aziraphale gave him before changing his clothes into more proper attire. Crowley grinned as he released time, and the executioner was dressed in Aziraphale's clothing; letting this particular human die was quite fair with Crowley. How dare he touch his Angel.

"Well, barely counts as a miracle, really."

"Dressed like that, he's asking for trouble."

The two entirely ignoring the human's goings-on now they looked at each other again.

"What's for lunch?"

"What would you say to some crepes?"

Lunch with Aziraphale was always remarkable for Crowley; firstly, he got to watch his Angel eat, and the way he ate was almost better than sex. Or at least leading up to it. Crowley often wondered if his Angel even realized just how he sounded or how he made everything seemingly look like sex as he ate. On occasion, Crowley wished he was the dessert, and on more than one occasion, he dreamt or imagined it alone in his home, and he had an incredible imagination.

Still, nothing could replace Aziraphale, his Angel, not now, not ever. Crowley watched him from behind shaded eyes, and when Aziraphale looked up at just the right moment, as the light shone from behind Crowley, his hair lit like a fiery halo around his head. Aziraphale could see his eyes through the glasses looking at him.

His breath hitched, something fell into place, he knew at that moment, he knew Crowley from somewhere other than the wall. Aziraphale thought for a moment remembering something from the letter to Crowley he read so long ago from Hell.

~Use hellfire on him, not your wiles, or the past you two have...~.

He looked at Crowley and opened his mouth and thought better of it, for a moment.

"Crowley, m' dear, can I ask you a question?"

"'Course angel, anything."

"I don't want to bring up anything that may be disturbing to you, but I need to ask you about that letter," he asked, a flush crossing his face and his eyes dropping.

"Wha' letter?" Crowley took an uncomfortable drink of wine; it was good wine, that time of the letter was not.

"The one where you sacrificed yourself to whatever was going to happen to you, I know you did, so I won't ask unless you want to tell me what happened. However, in that letter, it said we had a past. There is nothing from our past we have that you could have used on me, especially not then, so what were they referring to?"

Aziraphale tilted his head as he watched Crowley's eyebrows lift above his glasses, the tilt of his head down looking at Aziraphale over the rim of his glasses, golden eyes boring into his storm blue ones.

"Oh, well, umm, yeah, tha'. Not somethin' I can talk about Angel. Rules, you know, rules."

Crowley said the last part of his answer with despair and disdain. He finished his wine and looked back at his Angel, desperately wanting to tell him; he could feel that Aziraphale was on the moment of remembering, he would eventually, but still, he couldn't tell him. Aziraphale looked disappointed and not really believing.

"Who said you can't tell me, m' dear? I honestly want to know, why don't I remember you from before the wall? I knew all the angels, I trained them all, so why don't I remember you?"

Crowley shrugged.

"Can't angel, as much as I want to, my lips are sealed by your lovely mother, that much I can tell you, why is because it's a curse. I do think we had this conversation before, though."

Crowley finished another glass of wine and leaned towards his Angel, his worry about being with him was no more; he had a year off with no check-ups. He was free for a year, and he knew he'd follow Aziraphale anywhere he went. Aziraphale saw the lean and blushed; he placed his hand on Crowley's and grinned.

"You know, I have missed you."

Crowley looked at his hand on his; it was so warm against his always cool skin, he smiled.

God watched to see if Crowley would try and break her curse, but he didn't, and she was spared at least that. Agnes was finally back, and in her celestial form, a beauty unto her own, none looked like her in all of Heaven. She was free of her earthly form, being free to take on her celestial form; she was free, as Agnes had chosen to become alive with the rest, her head rested on God's shoulder, and she sighed.

"When are you going to let them be? You know he didn't deserve to fall."

God sighed and nodded.

"When they fulfill what they are meant to Agnes, your book hasn't even been found by them yet."

Turning to Agnes, she held her hand and gently placed a kiss upon her lips.

Aziraphale frowned, a barely noticeable glow shone on him, fury, wrath? Even Crowley couldn't tell which; it was too closely intertwined; what he could tell was that Aziraphale was getting tired of not knowing. Not knowing what once was, what was now, what was then, and why he couldn't remember.

His frustration with it all leaked out into the world, flowing off of him now when he didn't get answers. Crowley was more surprised at how long it had taken for this to happen; Aziraphale was, after all, was the leading Principality and the only in two choirs of Heaven, his patience for stupidity and no answers was already thin, on a good day.

Crowley tilted his head and looked at his flustered and frustrated Principality; he grinned at the flush across the bridge and cheeks of that perfect face. Aziraphale felt Crowley's eyes on him, even behind those stupid glasses, which were irritating him even more at the moment; he didn't like not being able to see the eyes of the demon.

In all honesty, he loved drowning in the depths of them; being surrounded by the molten gold was as close to being in the stars as he could remember. Aziraphale watched as the tilt of Crowley's head let an unruly curl fall across his eyes, and without meaning to his hand slowly reached out to move the ringlet back up into the ridiculously perfect hairstyle of the day.

Crowley's eyes widened behind glasses watching an Aziraphale's hand slowly come towards his face; his eyes flashed up and looked into Aziraphale's eyes. Eyes of the stormiest oceans' color, flecked with the brightest of stars currently held a growing black hole, never leaving the quet of hair that dangled in front of Crowley's hidden eyes.

Aziraphale's eyes locked onto the glasses that annoyed him. Desperately Aziraphale wanted and needed to see Crowley's eyes; he needed to feel that they were right. To feel what he could feel was being kept from him, rules or not, it was the one place where Crowley couldn't hide what was once was. A love that Crowley never said out loud, Aziraphale could feel it there burning, he knew they had a past, and his anger was growing.

It took Aziraphale years before he knew he had been abandoned on Earth, with no one for thousands of years; only Crowley had ever been there, as much as he could. A demon that sacrificed himself for an angel? There was more, so much more he could feel it. He'd worry about why later; right now, he needed his demon.

A curl of deep apple red twirled around Aziraphale's finger and was slowly placed back where it belonged. Aziraphale slowly let his finger slide down Crowley's jawline, stopping only for a moment, watching to see if his demon would run again; instead, a staggered breath left Crowleys slightly parted lips.

It had been hundreds of years since Crowley and Aziraphale had been together. Aziraphale knew it was something that had happened to him, knew he wouldn't press or pry, but this was different, letting his hand cup Crowley's cheek, his demon leaned into his hand as his eyes closed.

Aziraphale heard it, saw it, and he felt it. This was right, Crowley wasn't afraid of him anymore; he felt the love from him again and felt himself ignite, his grace reached, his soul sung at a simple touch, as though he had been starving...

Crowley's eyes opened as the light around them got brighter. The light kept getting brighter, he felt the heat, and then as golden eyes opened, Crowley saw what it was. Aziraphale's grace had remembered but also didn't forget God's command; as it ignited, so did Aziraphale.

Divinity brighter than any star was poured off Aziraphale; Crowley could feel it; the smile that plastered itself on his face was beyond angelic and took Aziraphale's breath away. Looking around the restaurant, humans who wouldn't be aware of the glow from divinity were noticing something. Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's hand; it was hot to the touch; his eyes locked onto the Principality, and he snapped.

Aziraphale and Crowley found themselves on a quiet and small little "island" that Crowley had discovered in his travels in an attempt to be alone. He had made himself a little cottage as the waves lapping at the shore. The garden more significant than the cottage itself, to which Aziraphale noticed was in the middle of the garden. Crowley smiled and breathed in, letting his angel glow.

"Aziraphale, can I try something?"

Crowley looked at his Angel that still hadn't stopped staring at him.

"Anything." a breathy response was all Aziraphale could muster.

"Come over here and sit; I want to see something."

Crowley went further into the garden and near the cottage sitting under an apple tree. Aziraphale simply followed him, no questions asked. He was hoping maybe Crowley would answer a few. His divinity was becoming uncomfortable as if overcharged and looking for someone to share it with.

The two sat under the apple tree; Aziraphale had had enough of the glasses and reaching up as Crowley sat removing them. Placing them on the ground as not to break his demons glasses, he just needed to see Crowley's eyes. Crowley stopped breathing for a moment as his glasses were removed and then smiled at Aziraphale, his golden eyes glinting with the sunset. Crowley reached out and took both of Aziraphale's hands in his, looking at him for approval; he nodded and watched as golden eyes closed.

Crowley let his guard down, his grace already reaching for the Angel in front of him, for his Angel, memories of past horror ran through his head, he almost pulled away, when out of nowhere, a commanding grace grabbed onto his grace.

Aziraphale's grace commanded him to stay; it pleaded and begged just as much as it commanded. Crowley's grace cried, feeling the command it remembered, answering in turn as it, wrapping around the angels.

Crowley heard Aziraphale's sharp inhale, feeling the heat that his Angel's divinity wrapped around him. It wasn't painful, his grace knew, it was careful. The heat couldn't be held back as Aziraphale's had no other outlet to not hurt him. Crowley felt their grace crying as it tried so hard to become one again. It tried to call The Nothing, begging it attempted to connect the broken threads, it tried.

Crowley heard Aziraphale sob slightly, feeling his grace desperately trying to right some wrongs with this demon. Crowley knew Aziraphale's grace couldn't let him know; his eyes opened. Directly in front of him was Aziraphale, his eyes, darker than he had ever seen, anger, frustration, loss, love, confusion, everything that should never be mixed was there.

Crowley wanted to remove them from his Angel's eyes; his hand reached up touching Aziraphale's face, feeling him lean into his hand. Aziraphale's hand came up behind Crowley's head and brought him slowly to touch his lips with his own.

Crowley closed the rest of the distance, having desperately needing his Angel for far too many years; as soon as the space between them was gone. The Earth left from around them. All was dark to Crowley; his eyes flew open as panic set in, then a light brighter than any star, than anything he had ever made finally shown. Aziraphale was still in his arms.

The Nether felt it's two angels again, it found them, it felt their grace and pulled them into it, wrapping around them. Crowley never forgot this, but his Angel was almost too bright to look at; though to Aziraphale, his demon was almost too bright with a dark light that resembled the star-covered skies. Behind Crowley, his wings were out, and Aziraphale looked at the starlight and stardust filled wings.

"I, remember those..." he looked between Crowley and the wings.

"Why do I know those? Who were you to me??"

Aziraphale looked panicked for a moment; Crowley pulled him closer, kissing him as the time slowed to a stop. Aziraphale's arms wrapped around his demon, his Crowley pulling him entirely against him.

The Nether had never been commanded to do anything; the world shifted again around them. Suddenly something tangible was under them as Crowley's back hit the ground; both opened their eyes, and colors surrounded them, swirling; Aziraphale sat back on his knees and pulling Crowley up sitting together as they looked out.

They sat together on a Nebula looking down on everything else, their Nebula; Crowley smiled brightly as his breath hitched, and tears ran down his face. Aziraphale did not miss the reaction, as he did remember the Nebula, just not the why. Aziraphale had been wrapping his golden threads around that Nebula, keeping it together for what seemed forever; glints of silver here and there still winded amongst the gold.

A Principality wiped away a tear from the face of a demon as they looked around their Nebula. The Nether grinned, feeling just fine with pushing memories that God had erased. Crowley looked up at his Angel and pulled him back to him; there was no resistance, only a brightening of divinity that held the demon within the heat of it.

Crowley ran his hands through the angelic fluff of hair on his Angel's head and grinned...

~Snap~

If Crowley was waiting for a gasp from his Angel, he was sadly mistaken, as he was the one that gasped and hitched his breathing as his now naked body was engulfed with the full heat of a Principality that desperately needed him.

Aziraphale's hands slid over Crowley's body, slowly inching further down, his fingers slid into the folds of an unexpected effort. Crowley arched off the Nebula, and against his Angel, panting, a very unangelic grin crossed Aziraphale's face; Crowley could feel it against his skin. Crowley's mind was currently blown as he hadn't had that particular effort since the fall; he never would, but apparently, his grace had other ideas. Crowley stopped breathing when he felt a quick and sudden change in his Angel's position.

Crowley's effort was assaulted by a hot but yet gentle insistent mouth, he cried out, remembering the last time he had felt Aziraphale, his fingers clawed against the stardust. Crowley thought he heard a very soft growl for just a moment before Aziraphale doubled his attention on Crowley. Golden eyes blew wide as he arched and tried to scramble away, only to have strong arms wrap around his legs, pulling him back against that mouth that was ravaging him.

Aziraphale's fingers tightened around his legs with each call of his name, wanting to leave marks; he was his. Crowley could feel the heat crawling into his spine; he stopped trying to get away and started pushing, rolling his hips against Aziraphale's mouth.

"P-pleasssssse...." Crowley was beyond demanding and just needed.

"Please, what love?"

Aziraphale held him with one arm as his other was pushing down on his own effort, trying to relieve some pressure.

"In me, now, pleassssse, on...in...pleassse."

Sentences were no longer a possibility for the ever clever demon.

Aziraphale groaned against the effort he was licking, and sucking into his mouth, he slid his fingers slowly into Crowley, bringing his body slowly up Crowley. Aziraphale slid his hand over his arousal a few times as golden eyes watched, slowly sliding into Crowley. Stopping only when he couldn't go any further and his demon had arched off the Nebula and pushed them back onto Aziraphale's knees.

Aziraphale's lap now containing a very wanton demon that had begun to roll his hips against Aziraphale, both gasping, Aziraphale biting into Crowley's neck, his tongue teasing the flesh between his teeth. Aziraphale pushed quickly up into Crowley, he called out his angels name, he did it again, as he did, they tipped into bliss.

Crowley wrapped his arms around his Angel, panting his name; Aziraphale pulled Crowley into him, burying himself as deep as he could. Aziraphale's grace lost control for only a moment, when...

"Raphael"

-slipped from his lips, Crowley heard it, he stilled as tears ran down his cheeks.

"Remember me.." Crowley whispered.

Both stilled for a moment, only a moment, when a golden thread wrapped in silver grew, slowly at first until it touched the two and encircled them, attaching to hearts, souls, and grace that were slightly fearful. Neither moved from each other.

Crowley could feel Aziraphale tremble in his arms, leaning back. He looked at him for a moment before pulling him back into a full serpentine hug.

"I know that name; it's yours, isn't it? Why can't I feel why it's attached to you and what it means to me?"

Crowley simply held him; there was nothing he could say.

"Aziraphale? Are you okay?" Crowley asked almost in a whisper.

There was nothing Crowley could do to answer the questions; Aziraphale had his name, Aziraphale was remembering him. Saying nothing, Crowley felt the light kisses against shoulders that had been bitten. An almost undetectable smirk and a chuckle escaped his Angel. Aziraphale was remembering but kept it to himself, for now, until he understood.

Crowley frowned and leaned back, looking into Aziraphale's eyes. What he saw was beyond anything he had seen in a long time. A cloud of something that had hidden all of the beauty of those eyes wasn't there, only slightly but not entirely. Blue of the stormiest oceans, with stars of every color, glinted back at him. Crowley gasped as he realized he was looking at the universe they had created together.

Aziraphale, at some point in time, his grace refused to not remember and refused to let it all go, and kept Crowley, his Raphael, as part of him, in any way it could.

"Aziraphale...." he frowned again, still peppering his face with kisses.

"I am fine Crowley, are you going to be safe? I read the scroll, and if you are in danger, we will just stay here. I can't, I can't know you were hurt because of me."

Aziraphale's head rested against Crowley's forehead.

"Heh, I will be fine, do, do you remember anything, at all?"

Crowley asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice, failing, but at least he tried.

"I remember the name, I remember it as a whisper from a dream I can't pull entirely back out, but I remember your wings, and I hate the fact that I remember touching them, I remember keeping them, I can't remember anything past that. They are your wings, at least here they are, and that means that I should remember you, from something; why would I know your wings if there isn't more."

Aziraphale closed his eyes with a sigh.

Crowley smiled.

"I'll take that for now. I broke no rules."

Crowley closed his eyes, he gasped. Aziraphale looked at him like something was wrong, and a protective fury flashed around them.

"Aziraphale... it's fine, just close your eyes and look."

Aziraphale grumbled something about making him worry and closed his eyes, the same gasp as his eyes locked onto Crowley's.

"How is that possible?"

Crowley shrugged with a very self-satisfying grin.

"Crowley, will they see that? Can they see that? Oh, how will I explain that?"

Crowley grinned wider.

"Oh my Principality, how will we explain a bond between a demon and an angel...that is an awfully bright bond."

Aziraphale groaned as Crowley rolled his hips against him.

"Ugh, worry about it later...."

\----------------------------------------------------------->  
1862 - St. James Park

~Oh, I fucked up. I didn't think it would go as wrong as it did, but it did. I only wanted Holy Water to protect us, and well, I didn't explain it before I asked for it. Passed a fucking note with "Holy Water" written on it to a Principality who has an aversion to anything happening to me. Still doesn't remember why, which makes it all the worse.

Fuck.

I said I didn't need him; why did I say that. FUCK, fuck, why did I say that? I know he didn't mean it when he repeated it back at me; he was hurt and angry. This was my fault. How do I fix this, he thinks, fraternizing, I mean really, fraternizing, then again, he has become what he was told to be. The best book collection, so he finally opened the store and became the little bookshop keeper....even though he won't sell a single thing. Oh, I fucked this up. I am just so tired.

So tired, I just need sleep...I need sssssssleep.

Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssleeeeeeppppp.~

Coiling in on himself, Crowley went to the middle of his bed, curling into a tight coil, and slept. After placing a blessing on his home to move along and change with the times. He'd wake up eventually, but for now, he slept.

At first, it was years, then waking to find a Bentley that was definitely a demon on wheels, sentient, and they loved each other immediately. Hell was impressed with his ability to sleep through years like they were nothing and gave him a promotion for Sloth. When he was done, he wanted to show Aziraphale his car; Crowley frowned, remembering the fight as he pulled up in front of the bookshop.

Crowley remembered the horrific things he had said, hearing them echoed back to him within his own head. Words he didn't know he could fix, Crowley wasn't a being of love anymore; words of forgiveness were no longer in his vocabulary. Crowley knew he could never be forgiven; how could he think an actual angel could forgive him.

Pulling away from the store, he caught a glimpse of his Angel, walking about the shop near the front windows. The only thing Crowley didn't see was when Aziraphale looked up from his books, feeling Crowley there, and watched his demon drive away; a sadness retaking hold of his heart seeing him drive away.

Going back home, Crowley curled back up in his bed, what was another decade or two. Perhaps he could just sleep away eternity. Wouldn't Aziraphale be better off with someone else? Coiling back up, he slept until he woke again.

\------------------------------------------------------------------> 1941 London, incoming


	12. Consecrated Ground, Books and Holy Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time travels on and Crowley finds himself  
> having been stalking around trying to catch  
> glimpses of his Angel. Only to find himself at  
> a tavern and catching the end of a conversation  
> knowing it has to be about his angel, and finding  
> dancing down the aisle of a church.
> 
> Then against Aziraphale's better judgment  
> over a hundred years later, he gives Crowley  
> a thermos before disappearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Triggers

**Chapter Twelve**

_Consecrated Ground, Books, and Holy Water_

**[Chapter Twelve, Playlist - Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi6eKiVUCg9fGKGCOKS41Jaj) **

Quietly I ducked out of the bar I found myself in, finishing my drink as I left, I could hear people whispering in the alley next to me. I leaned against the wall, lighting a cigarette up; the smoke circled my head like a halo; holding back a chuckle from the thought alone, I listened. As I suspected it was the Nazi's, thanking whomever for the fact that I could speak any language, something I would never tell Aziraphale about, I took in their words.

As I did, the cold of the bricks at my back seemed somehow warmer than my actual body. Even with the warmth, I couldn't help the shivers, the anxiety, and fear from creeping throughout my body.  
.  
"Der Buchhändler wird die Bücher heute Abend haben."  
"(The bookseller will have the books tonight."

"Triff uns am Chruch, wird ihn entsorgen und die Bücher nehmen."  
"(Meet us at the church, will dispose of him then."

I stayed still. Aziraphale, it had to be him; there was no one else that would have the books that these asshats wanted. I hadn't spoken to him in a very long time, ever since the Holy Water debacle. I had seen him on occasions, just by chance, not the fact that I had been spying on him ever since I woke back up. Hell had given me a year off for the amount of time that I had slept; they were rather impressed, which gave me a quick out if ever I needed one.

Sleeping away eternity, hey, it was something.

My nerves were getting the better of me; I needed to warn Aziraphale, the Nazis were going to kill him. I would be damned, well damned a second time if anyone was going to hurt, let alone kill my angel. A church, though, I walked towards the churches that were still standing, kicking some rubble here and there, trying to figure out how to broach a lot of hurt and topics.

Firstly though needed to get my angel safely out of here. Before long, I found myself standing on a street that held three churches, which one, it had been a long time, but suddenly there was a breath-stealing pull of anxiety on my grace.

My head whipped to the right, looking at the largest church on the entire street. Still standing, almost as though a miracle had protected it.

~Of course, you're in that one. Well, at least when you're in trouble, you bother to pick up on my grace.~

Quickly I ran to the top of the stairs and looked up at the church; the stairs into the church would be blessed, of that I was confident.

~ Fucking consecrated ground, who thought of this shit.~

I had seen a demon trip once, landing on consecrated ground, up in smoke and flames he went. I had to try; tentatively, I held my breath, lifting my foot, gingerly I touched the stair, it was hot, scalding, but I didn't combust.

~Well, that's good.~

Just then, fear and panic ripped through me, it was all I needed to run up those stairs and into that church, my fear of discorporation all but forgotten. As I entered, heads all turned towards me, it was comical, and if my feet hadn't been on fire, I would have had to stop and laugh at the scene before me.

Aziraphale's face dropped from panic to shock, from shock to anger in all of three seconds. I never saw that many emotional changes on my angel before; I have to admit I was amused.

"What are you doing here?"

"Trying to save you from embarrassing yourself!"

"Of course their working for you!"

Are you kidding me Aziraphale, what kind of demon do you think I am? Wait, probably best not to ask him that right now. Although I was getting a little tired of dancing around....of wait, HEY!

"Oh, LOOK a whole fontful of Holy Water; it isn't guarded~."

"Mr. Anthony J, Crowley, your name precedes you."

"Anthony?!?"

"Wha' you don't like it?"

"No, no, I'll get used to it!"

Oh, you will? That's a good sign; I guess he won't be smiting me after this. Looking up, my brain decided to remind me that we, an angel and a demon, could be just as quickly discorporated if my plan worked out.

"....and if a bomb does drop here in the next thirty seconds, it would take a REAL miracle for us to survive it!"

"A..a real miracle?"

This kind of miracle could only be performed by an angel, a real one. I could only hope his protection would also include me within it. I found I had faith, maybe not in God right now, but in Aziraphale that he wouldn't let anything happen to me. I could only hope now that Aziraphale could pull it off and protect us both, pointing up the telltale sound of bombs dropping were easily heard.

My eyes caught the leather-bound bag of books, my angel's prized possessions, quickly I wrapped them in my own miracle, just as the bombs went off. Debris, flames, rubble whipped around my corporeal form, nothing touching me, my eyes fixed on the dove statue in front of me.

I couldn't look at my angel right now; he was too bright. The flames that licked at my face but not being able to touch my corporation. Crosses, parts of the church whipped past me, still not touching me; the longer the church crumbled, the further Aziraphale's miracle pulled everything away from me. I tried to look, but there was far too much divinity radiating off him.

In all honesty, he may have gone a tad overboard with the miracle; I was sure to hear about it later.

Leaning against what was left of a wall, I cleaned off my glasses, head bowed slightly, and did not want to look at my angel, but I had to. I could see him wringing his hands together, another nervous habit he picked up here on Earth a long time ago; somehow, it seemed fitting for him now. I could see his body language change as he turned towards me; I knew he would have to say something, should I let him though, I am the one that stayed away so long, and well stalked him when he wasn't watching.

"That was very kind of you.."

Oh, dammit, I need my glasses back on...

"Shud..dup.."

"Well, it was...OH..oh the books! I forgot all about the books! They'll all be turned to.."

Time to shine! Let's see how my little miracle does; I hope he smiles; it'll make this a lot easier dealing with my fussy angel, and I was sure groveling would be involved, but he was worth it.

"...ash. I little demonic miracle of my own, ride home?"

I never did really get to see his face; I couldn't, I could feel it pouring off his grace, and if I had looked, it would have discorporated me on the spot. Not to mention that everything below my waist was now on fire, and slowly growing more intense, it wasn't just fire; now it was sheer pain.

I kept moving towards the road; I needed to get back to the Bentley, I wanted to get off my feet...I needed...I felt my knees hit the pavement, and then someone had their arms around me; it had to be Aziraphale, then nothing.

"Crowley!"

Aziraphale ran to his demons side, just catching him before his head had smacked into the pavement. Looking him over, it quickly dawned on him that his demon had not only stayed and walked on the consecrated ground for him, chancing total destruction for him but that Crowley had also performed a miracle while inside the church.

Backlit blue eyes scanned down to Crowley's feet and legs; he knew that they had to be burnt to the utmost degree, he had to get him to the bookshop, looking around quickly, nodding an apology to the Bentley he snapped.

Aziraphale's snap brought them into his bedroom in the bookshop, desperately snapping again, lighting the fire to warm the room, and he set all the needed wards to keep all eyes and any other type of being out. Aziraphale needed to heal Crowley, and he wasn't sure what he was going to be healing yet.

Rolling Crowley onto his back, Aziraphale slid his hands under Crowley's arms, pulling him up further onto the bed. Resting Crowley's head on the pillows, Aziraphale proceeded to remove Crowleys shoes, socks, and pants, those he had to snap away though, let's be honest. Tears sprung to Aziraphale's eyes as he looked over his demon, letting his fingers gently touch; he almost fainted at the amount of pain being radiated off of the wounds.

"Oh, you brave, brave, stupid demon. You risked everything for me again. I am a poor excuse of an angel, I am supposed to keep you out of, well really I should let you do the stupid things you do and encourage it, but I digress, I am going to get you killed, obliviated. For real one of these times."

Crowley could hear his angel fussing, the pain was getting through to his brain now, and he dragged in a hissing breath. Aziraphale smoothed the hair off of Crowley's forehead.

"Don't move m'dear, try not too, you did a number on yourself. "

Aziraphale placed a gentle kiss on Crowley's cheek; he could feel the slide of tears down Aziraphale's face, touching his own.

"Please just try and stay still, I know you're in pain, but I need to work with what I have here."

Crowley nodded, just barely even noticeable, as Aziraphale went to work.  
First, Aziraphale tried to use gentle angelic healing on his demon, it had always worked before, but this time, Crowley just about shot off the bed with a scream. Aziraphale fell back as his demon hissed at him, falling back onto the bed, having passed out from the pain.

"Oh, dear, no healing then."

Quickly Aziraphale miracled supplies to wrap and clean the wounds, Crowley's legs were burnt, charred, cracked, and bleeding. Aziraphale promptly took care of all the injuries, fully dressing and bathing them; his tears kept falling the lower he went on his demons legs, Crowley's feet being the worse. Finally, he finished and dragged a chair up to the bed; he rested his head on the blankets, holding Crowley's hand.

Crowley woke up sometime later, the pain lessened; it was tolerable; he remembered the sudden pain and then felt a breath on his hand. Looking down, he could see his angel, holding his hand, resting his cheek against it. Crowley couldn't help but smile at his angel; wiggling his fingers, he watched blue eyes flutter open and focus on him; he smirked at him.

"Hey there, angel, been a while."

The smile that plastered itself on Aziraphale's face was breathtaking. Though there was something else present, something Crowley couldn't quite place; he knew it; he had seen it flicker in the backs of Aziraphale's eyes a few times, but this time it stayed, it was deeper, it had taken hold.

"Hello dear boy, it's going to be sometime before you can get around; without help, I tried healing you; however, apparently, using my healing only made things worse for you. So, healing the old fashioned way it has to be."

Aziraphale did not look disappointed in this revelation; if anything, the smile only widened; his demon was stuck here with him. Crowley watched him smile, watched that new flash in his eyes, confusion set into the brain of the demon while he tried to figure out what changed.

"Angel, I need to apologize for, well from before. I lied to you, and then I went away; I didn't mean anything I said."

Crowley looked down towards his feet at the end of the bed; Aziraphale stood and lifted Crowley's chin with his fingers and lightly kissed him.

"Let me take care of you, and all is forgotten."

Crowley looked at him and nodded was all he could do; something had changed; even the chaste kiss he was given was different; there was a strange possessiveness in it that wasn't there before. He knew it; he had felt it before but so, so long ago.

\---------------------------------------->>>>1967 Soho, London  
"I'll let you know what we're getting when we're there."

Crowley left the meeting of the Holy Water caper's minds and felt he had everything quiet, under control, placed perfectly. No one knew anything, especially his angel; he would get the holy water and keep it his safe until it was needed. Sliding into his Bentley, he closed the door.

Aziraphale had meandered up into Heaven via the front door, looking as inconspicuous as he possibly could, holding a tartan thermos. Angels saw him, watched him, he never showed up in Heaven without a purpose, and this day was no different. Within the central spire was a fountain that always flowed with the holiest of holy water, his destination.

Slowly he entered, looking around; luckily for him, no one was present as he filled the thermos, closed it, hands shaking, sweat dripping from his brow. If he was caught, it would be the end of him; there was no reason for him to be getting any, no call for it; he couldn't lie his way out of this. Footsteps from behind him, just outside the door, he snapped and found himself sitting in the Bentley.

Crowley's head whipped to the passenger's seat, hearing something show up there, his angel looking a bit distraught.

"Wha are you doing here?"

Aziraphale's eyes only glanced at him and looked forward.

"I work in Soho, I hear things...."

Crowley sighed.."You told me what you thought one hundred and five years ago...."

Aziraphale looked down before he continued and slowly handed the thermos to Crowley.

"I still do, don't go unscrewing the cap."

Aziraphale looked as though he was about to start crying.

"Is it real?..."

"The holiest."

That meant Aziraphale stole it directly from Heaven.

"Can I drop you anywhere?"

Aziraphale shook his head at him, which made Crowley pout.

"Don't look like that."

"I'll drop you anywhere you want."

with a sigh, Aziraphale looked at him

"You go too fast for me, Crowley."

Crowley watched as Aziraphale left the Bentley, leaving him to ponder what had changed again. Still, he didn't know, too fast? What was too fast? Crowley still sat in his car, finally heading for the bookshop he needed to talk to Aziraphale. Something was wrong; he knew he missed something a long time ago.

Pulling up, he sat in front of the shop, still trying to place when things changed. As amber eyes looked at the store's front windows, there in front was the bookbag, held in its own glass case, protected like Aziraphale had protected him. That was when it changed, but Crowley hadn't seen Aziraphale's face; he had missed it.

Only remembering that that was when he saw the change in Aziraphale's eyes, the way he helped him. Even the way he was kissed, never like it was before, almost as if Aziraphale was afraid the world would swallow Crowley whole if he kissed him at all. It had been a drastic change between them.

Something from a very long time ago whispered words into his mind, Crowley barely felt it, hardly heard it, but it was there. He grabbed his heart, he remembered the feeling, it was her.

"If ever he needed you, it's now..."

Crowley sat panting in his car, looking at the bookstore. Casting his eyes up towards the sky, not believing what he heard, what he felt. All Crowley did know was that he needed to go save his angel? From what, he had no idea. He found himself not where he thought he would go but some other room within the shop with a snap.

Listening, he was stopped dead by the sobs he heard coming from the room in front of him, a candle lighting the way. Flickers of shadow and lights danced throughout the hallway, drawing him closer to the door. Stopping just before the door, his fingers touched the door.

"Please, what have I done? Did I give him a way out? I can't be here without him, not anymore. I only have asked one thing of you since you sent me here; only once have I asked anything of you. I know it was a long time ago, maybe I should pray more to you, I know I have been slacking in trying, but you graced me with being able to protect him. Please don't let him leave because of me. Why did I give the thermos, dear God, did I kill him?"

Crowley let go of the door; what had Aziraphale asked so long ago? Something to protect him? The church, the books, protecting him, Crowley realized that yes, he had been hurt but never thought of what Aziraphale might have to withstand by saving a demon on consecrated ground. Rescued from a church that he had blown up with demonic miracles, he realized that was when everything changed.

Crowley stepped away from the door, knowing he wasn't going to use the water. He couldn't help his angel right now; telling him the truth was far too close to the surface as he heard the sobs wrack his angel. Crowley needed to sleep just to regain control over what he wanted to do.

\----------------------------------------->>>>  
11 Years Before The End of the World

The phone rang in A.Z.Fell & Co., as an irritated angel, answered the phone to hear Crowley explain they needed to talk about the end of the world......


	13. Of Nannies and Gardeners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The antichrist has been born and  
> Crowley has delivered him to the nuns.  
> Knowing he has to talk with Aziraphale  
> about what to do the two get together  
> to figure out a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - No Triggers

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Of Nannies and Gardeners_

**[Chapter Thirteen, Playlist - Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi7yGgKcmM6jj94L7T05FUPF) **

Sitting on the bench just a few feet apart, trying not to garner any curiosity, the two discussed what had happened. Crowley found trying to convince the Angel to work together on this matter more of a pain in the ass than anything else. So what was a demon to do but ask his Angel to lunch, where he could watch Aziraphale eat?

A favorite past time that had shown up back with oysters, Crowley did love those memories. Plus, since the whole church incident, which he still couldn't figure out what had changed, they hadn't actually been together. Yes, they were bonded, but it had become just that, an unbreakable bond. This always confused Crowley, who wanted to be with Aziraphale more than he would admit.

"Quite an extraordinary amount of alcohol."

An angel and a demon convened in the back room of a bookshop. The antichrist had been born, Crowley had delivered the baby, well dropped him off with some satanic nuns, and found a payphone to call Aziraphale, though what Crowley would never tell Aziraphale was it was his fault he had to use a payphone that night.

Convening in the backroom of A.Z.Fell & Company were two supernatural beings addressing the end of the world and what to do about it. Crowley at least knew where the antichrist was; it was something to start to discuss with Aziraphale. Aziraphale sat back in his chair listening to Crowley; every once in a while, he rolled his eyes before deciding he couldn't do anything; Aziraphale had to do what he was told, pointing to the heavens.

Crowley caught the response of having to do what he was told. Taking a step closer to his Angel, his thoughts spiraling into one of the many circles of hell. Wanting his Angel now, he'd tell him what to do, alright, eating like that all the goddamn time. Crowley's mind decided to inform him of how many decades had it been.

The alcohol wasn't helping the situation; when he heard Aziraphale suggest getting sober, he almost agreed. Instead, his hand shot out, grabbing Aziraphale by his bowtie, pulling him up against him. Firmly not letting go, and angels breath left him in a puff of air as his back hit the wall.

"I believe the last time I was this close to you, that nun interrupted me."

Aziraphale nodded, not knowing what to say, wanting Crowley just as much but not wanting to put him in danger. This was different; this was Crowley wanting him. That was when Crowley saw it again, in Aziraphale's eyes, that was knowing, remembering. What had Aziraphale remembered? All Crowley knew was it was something essential but at the moment, what was in front of him was all that was important.

Aziraphale grinned, pulling Crowley's glasses off his face and throwing them across the room. There was no attempt to leave the current situation. If anything, Aziraphale was going to make it worse. In his arsenal, Aziraphale had a card that he knew would push Crowley just enough to make him lose control.

"You are rather nice though Crowley, I have always thought that."

The growl alone should have scared any angel away from the way Crowley looked at Aziraphale. Instead, the sound had the exact opposite effect as it lit Aziraphale's eyes in a full blaze of divinity. Aziraphale groaned as Crowley bullied him harder against the wall, feeling him grind t him.

It had been far too long, yet Aziraphale had learned to fear being with Crowley, ever since the books and Crowley never mentioned it, he thought that Crowley had been upset by it. This now, though, was precisely the opposite of what Aziraphale had thought-feeling Crowleys hands tearing at the bowtie, feeling buttons popping off his shirt, feeling a forked tongue and fangs at his throat.

It was desperate, it was wrong, but it was so right. Aziraphale's hands slid up into Crowley's hair, bringing his lips to his, letting his mouth open under Crowleys. Crowley's hands pulled the rest of Aziraphale's shirt open, growling, feeling yet another layer of clothing.

"For fucks sake, angel."

"Get rid of it; I don't care."

Aziraphale's' answer almost stopped Crowley long enough to look at him, but instead. Claws ripped the rest of the shirt off of his Angel. Crowley's hands sliding over the warm skin under his fingers, pressing his claws slightly harder against the flesh he wanted to taste.

Crowley dragged the shirt off of Aziraphale, letting it pool on the floor somewhere in the room wherever it landed. Aziraphale's hands dragged down the back of Crowley, pulling and tugging at the shirt; with a rather unangellic grin, Aziraphale tore the shirt from Crowley. Having no intention of stopping or moving his hands from Aziraphale, he snapped his fingers as they slid into Aziraphale's hair.

Aziraphale gasped, feeling Crowley against his naked body; he waited for a moment, tilting his head to the side, opening his neck to Crowley, who bit down, then letting his tongue trace over the worried flesh. Aziraphale felt Crowleys press his cock up against him, the sudden stop, and he grinned.

Crowley pulled his head back with a moment of confusion as his hand slid down the front of Aziraphale. Groaning as his hands slid between and then into Aziraphale, garnering a loud moan and a gasp. Crowley couldn't stop the grin as he looked back up at Aziraphale. It was the first and only time that Aziraphale had ever changed his effort.

"O-oh, you didn't think you were the only one that was going to enjoy this particular combination, did you?"

Crowley slid his fingers deeper into Aziraphale, purposely using his fingers the same way that Aziraphale had done to him. It didn't take long to get the sounds he wanted to hear from his Angel. Too much Crowley was enjoying the way his Angel sounded, the way his legs shook, the feeling of when his knees started giving out from under him.

Having waited long enough, for decades, Crowley hiked Aziraphlaes legs around his waist, hooking them over his hips using the wall to help hold Aziraphale where he wanted. Sliding himself into Aziraphale, feeling the slickness and warmth of the walls that squeezed around his cock.

Hearing the breathless name that fell from Aziraphales lips, his name. Feeling Aziraphale's hands in his hair, pulling him into a kiss, deeper until Aziraphale let his head fall back against the wall gasping for air he didn't need. Crowley rolled his hips, slowly pressing deeper into Aziraphale, letting his fangs drag over Aziraphale's neck.

Aziraphale's' hands reached next to him, holding himself onto the edges of the wall. Using the leverage to move himself, matching Crowley's motion, driving him in deeper, feeling and squeezing around Crowleys cock, dragging growls and moans from him. Crowley bit up the side of Aziraphale's neck as he drove deeper into Aziraphale, letting his tongue follow the bites, knowing he would leave marks.

Crowley reached up, using his hand against the wall to hold himself up, he slid his free hand between them. Slowly his fingers touched; hearing the difference in his Angel's noises, he rolled his fingers in a circle around Aziraphale's clit, dragging new sounds from him. Crowley felt how erratically Aziraphale was tightening around his cock, letting himself chase the feeling.

Aziraphale's breath was stuttered at best, calling out what could have been Crowley's name; any semblance there within Crowley didn't care, as he fell Aziraphale fall into bliss. Feeling his hands leave the wall wrapping around Crowley's shoulders dragging down his spine as he continued to slide within Aziraphale, touching him, hearing him. Crowley waited, Aziraphales head rested against his shoulder, bringing his hands to slide under Aziraphale ass to hold him in place.

Leaning his weight into Aziraphale, Crowley shifted his hips, slowly at first, tipping his Angel past being over sensitive and back into pleasure. Aziraphale's moans became desperate, needful, wanton of his demon. Enough that Crowley wasn't going to last much longer. Aziraphale pulled Crowley into a kiss as he came inside Aziraphlae, trying to hold himself a moment longer before he came a second time.

Both panting and using the wall as support holding them up together. Neither moving just holding onto the other, it had been far too long, neither truly knowing why it had happened, why they both stayed at arms reach from the other. Aziraphale breathlessly chuckled, feeling Crowley shudder, letting his lips easily brush over Crowleys, kissing him ever so gently.

Crowley looked into Aziraphale's eyes; he smiled genuinely. A kiss, a gentle bite, a whisper...

"Don't hide from me anymore, Angel."

"I won't."

"Promise me."

"I promise, my dear, for as long as we are here, I won't keep myself from you."

Time passed, how long they didn't know, an hour, maybe more, but in the others, arms was good enough. Finally, letting Aziraphale's legs down, Crowley snapped, taking care of any and all mess they had made, though as Aziraphale saw Crowley go to snap everything away, his hand touched his wrist.

"Don't take my marks; they're yours, and I want to keep them. I'll hide them my own way."

Crowley blinked before he smiled again, looking at his Angel, making sure as he snapped, he touched nothing on Aziraphale. Sitting back down, they needed to come up with a plan for the antichrist.

Thinking that they had come up with a good plan of action, but in reality, the only thing that was known for certain was that they couldn't let the end happen. Both had fallen in love with humankind to a fiercely protective degree, and they need to save humanity, their home, and without confessing it, each other. A simple shake of hands and the deal was sealed.

Their grace curled around the other, knowing the following day, they would see each other again, but not as they appear now; a gardener and a nanny would be taking the front stage for the next eleven years.

Stepping to the Senator's home's front door, Crowley, or more so Nanny Ashtoreth, knocked on the door. A dainty woman, apple red hair in a professionally styled bun, glasses perched just so on her nose, her figure slightly covered from view by the style of dress that she had chosen, an umbrella, a hat with flowers finished her look. All in all, a very Mary Poppins nanny. The ornate oak door opened to her,

"I heard you were looking for a nanny?"

Was all she needed to say, and into the house, she was led, maybe a snap of someone's fingers helped it along. Paperwork had already been filed and accepted as soon as she crossed the threshold of the house.

While at the back door, right around the same time, Aziraphale or moreso Brother Francis, a rather impressive looking fellow and a Gardner, could bring back any garden from the verges of extinction. A knock and the door opened,

"I believe you were looking for a gardener."

Now whether they needed one or not didn't matter; it was all in the way it was proclaimed; they were informed they were looking for one, at which time, well of course they were. Paperwork and all were presented and already accepted as soon as he crossed the thresh hold.

However, Aziraphale had one more trick up his sleeve, unbeknownst to Crowley.

The Nanny and the Gardener met at the cottage at the far back of the property, behind the gardens, a small yard fenced in, it was delightful, disguised by flowers and vines. It had a sitting room, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and a lovely little library area, Aziraphale, all but cooed at the sight of it.

Shaking his head Crowley went further in and looked around the cottage, nodding in approval; he stopped at the one single bedroom and one bed. Smirking as she looked into the bedroom, fully taking in the surroundings.

"Ummm, Aziraphale, a question for you."

Crowley was pointing at the room as though it had done something offensive to her.

"What, my dear boy, well, my girl?"

Aziraphale wanted to chuckle, but his eyes regarded the lines of Crowley's curves, particularly since Crowley had wholly changed gender; Aziraphale had never seen him as such. Crowley shuddered under Aziraphale's heavy gaze before frowning.

"Hey, eyes up here, please."

Aziraphale couldn't help but grin outwardly as a demon had to correct an angel's line of sight.

"Hmmm?"

Crowley rolled his eyes dramatically at the Angel.

"There is one bedroom, one bed, well not that you sleep, but how did we get this arrangement for eleven years?"

"Well, you see, I may have miracled paperwork saying we were married."

Aziraphale blushed brightly as his eyes dropped to the floor.

"Oh, well, we agreed on pap... Wait, we're what? You did what??"

Crowley watched the blush creep further up his face and disappear below the collar of Aziraphale's gardener outfit.

"Oh, for the love of...can you please take all of that off? I can't talk to you seriously when you're doing that."

Aziraphale smirked and advanced towards her.

"Aziraphale, answer me, what did you do?"

With a snap, Aziraphale's form shimmered and adjusted back to himself, he sighed hating all that hair on his face; it was, after all, rather itchy. Still, he took another step closer to Crowley, which caused the demon to take a step back and into the bedroom.

Crowley looked behind him, and up at the doorway, he crossed and put his hands up.

"Aziraphale, what did you do?"

Aziraphale let his eyes drop to her mouth and, of course, promptly ignored the question and let a rather wicked grin crawl across his face, his eyes removing all clothing on his demon as he scanned over her.

"What seems to be the problem, dear?" he purred at her.

"Well, someone seems rather interested in trying out the bedroom, or more so the bed!"

Crowley huffed at him.

"Oh my dear, it isn't the bed I want to try out."

Crowley blushed brightly as her eyes widened, letting her question wait; she giggled slightly and let herself be picked up and carried over to the bed.

Just as Aziraphale was about to kiss his demon, a rather loud knock was at their door, unexpected, yes. For once in all of humanity, an angel groaned, rolling off his demon. Crowley couldn't help but chuckle, walking carelessly to the door.

"Oh poor baby, I'll make it up to later, dear, after you tell me what you did!"

Aziraphale just laid on the bed defeated, not getting up and not putting that disguise back on. Unlocking the door, the butler had brought the paperwork back to them in the cottage.

"Your paperwork and marriage certificate returned to mum."

Crowley nodded and thanked him, leaning against the doorframe and read the certificate.

As Crowley read the marriage certificate, she chuckled to herself, shook her head, and reread it. In the eyes of everyone here, she and her Angel were married; under normal circumstances, she would have agreed to it anyway. Turning back to the house, she looked in on the bedroom; the Angel still lay on the bed, his face looking at the door with a defeated, pained look.

"Oh, Angel, that's just pathetic; it isn't going to work. No..no, no, don't you dare pout angel," she smirked at him.

"So we're married are we then, one cottage, one room, for eleven years, both sides have us here working."

With a tilt of her head, she spun out of the room before he could answer. She could hear him trying to say words that were not coherent. Locking the front door and closing the two front shutters, making sure it was loud enough for an angel to hear, she waited for a moment. Crowley snapped a chair from her flat, not just any chair but her throne.

Crowley had many thoughts of what to do to an angel and waited. Serpentine eyes gazed over at the bedroom door, sure as she knew, a radiance of white golden hair popped out and looked. A moment longer and Aziraphale stood in the doorway watching Crowley. Nimble fingers were slowly undoing the outwear that covered her corsetted figure underneath.

"Come sit, dear husband, I will need you, well, your help in a moment."

Aziraphale blushed at "husband" and mouthed the words walking to the chair that he found himself pushed into. Crowley stayed within his perspective, still undoing the multitude of buttons in the front of her dress; the last button was undone, and she let it fall off her shoulders, pooling around her feet.

Aziraphale watched as the dress pooled, vividly bright blue eyes followed slowly up from blood red heels to sheer black silk covered legs. His breath hitched at the lace and satin garters. Following the line of the lace, up over the curves of hips to an impossibly cinched waist to the flare of her perfectly sized chest covered in yet more of the matching black and red lace.

Crowley pulled a pin in her hair and let it fall out of the bun. Waves of dark apple red curls fell over her shoulders, resting over her chest, ending halfway down her back.

Aziraphale's eyes finally looked further up into her molten gold eyes, slightly more almond-shaped; she smirked in only a way that a temptation demon ever could looking at his blown-out pupils. More so knowing she had that effect without having to tempt the Angel, to Aziraphale, she already was a walking temptation, perfect. Turning her back to him, she sat on his lap, getting a slight growl from her Angel.

"Can you undo me please..."

Crowley pointed to the laced up back on her corset. She could feel her Angel nodding, his gentle touches on her shoulders as he moved her hair and the puff of air that left him. This was too much fun. Crowley had never had her Angel at a loss for words before; this was the longest she had ever not heard him.

Manicured fingers carefully, slowly pulled at the silken tie, loosening it, pulling at the sides, and bringing it up to ease the next set. Aziraphale's breathing was already becoming ragged; with each pull and slide, his demon wasn't helping the situation by the noises she was making as the corset came undone. As the last tie was undone and an unneeded deep breath was taken, Crowley slowly slid it off and let it drop onto the pooled dress; with a wiggle, she leaned back against her Angel.

"So much better, love..."

Crowley purred, rocking her hips against his lap, dragging a groan out of him. She did it again; his hands slid onto her waist just on top of her hips, feeling her move.

Aziraphale skimmed his hands down the sides of her legs, urging one on either side of his own. Crowley shifted back against Aziraphale's chest and circled her hips against him, feeling him hard against her; she grinned. Separating his own legs, hers slid open with his. Aziraphale's hands slid up her legs before his hands were able to touch her.

Crowley fell with serpentine grace forward and with a twist was on her knees in front of him. Her hair lingering down his legs, she lowered her head down, slowly shifting against his arousal with her body, back down, tracing her tongue over his clothed body.

A diabolical grin is all that could be said about the look Aziraphale got as her eyes settled onto him; he swallowed hard. With her fanged teeth, she drew his zipper down, her hands drawing the trousers from him. Open kisses, teeth, bites, and her tongue explored back up his legs, pausing at the base of his arousal. Softly biting pressure along his covered length, exhaling heated breath against him, letting her forked tongue dip below his waistband, barely touching the tip. Clawed fingers pulled at the band as molten eyes looked up for consent, Aziraphale consented with a groan.

"Please."

A snap and the offending clothes were gone, her mouth enveloped around him, descending to bump her nose against his stomach; he gasped and clutched into her hair.

Crowley's forked tongue coiled around Aziraphale's ever hardening cock, bobbing her head, spiraling her tongue entirely encompassing him, one way then the other. Aziraphale panted, sensing a delicately clawed hand touch his in her hair and squeeze it, using his hand pull her hair roughly with his hand. Aziraphale understood all too well and had no complaint as he pushed her back down and pulling back up.

Aziraphale's eyes opened, looking down at her, her face buried against him, his cock all but entirely in her throat, golden eyes wantonly looked up at him, he pulled roughly as she groaned. Aziraphale grinned with an unangelic growl, hearing that she slowed looking up, only to have her hair twisted around his hand, roughly being pulled off him, she groaned as his teeth found her neck.

Crowley gasped and groaned at Aziraphale's control, his teeth, his bites; he kept her on her knees in front of him, arching her back by her hair, ravishing her neck. Aziraphale held her away from him for a moment; he took in the beauty that was his demon; in any form, he was always astounded by Crowley. She followed his eyes, causing her to blush at how perfectly Aziraphale was memorizing this form; she had seen Aziraphale do this before to him, the first time they were together in heaven, and once more the first time Aziraphale was with Crowley. Sensing the heat of the angels' gaze on her, observing the way he licked his lips,

"Not very angelic, Angel."

Crowley managed to whisper out as Aziraphale controlled her by her hair.

Aziraphale stood still clutching her hair,

"Fuck, angelic."

Crowley's eyes that had closed for a moment darted open, as he drew her forward by her hair, penetrating her mouth she groaned, driving him into her throat. Clawed nails dragged down his legs, finding a place to grip onto behind his legs, roughly fucking his demons mouth, tugging her off, and bringing her back by her hair to the floor. Aziraphale found her mouth devouring her in a breath-stealing kiss, leaving her gasping, sliding down her body,

"Keep this for me?"

Aziraphale bit into Crowley's thigh before sucking it, letting his tongue cool the flesh as he marked her...

"Yessss..."

Crowley hissed out, loving the attention her Angel was giving her. Lower still, Aziraphale slowly went, worshipping every inch of her body.

"...and this?"

Again, Aziraphale another angelic mark on his demon.

"Yessss..."

Crowley all but hissed. She felt Aziraphale tug against her, pulling at her unmentionables.

"Oh yes, please, angel.."

Aziraphale's fingers slowly slid them down her legs and off her body. An angel knelt before a demon as though he was worshipping the almighty at and alter. Aziraphale placed himself between her legs, sipping her in, savoring her, caressing his tongue against her, feeling her writhe under him.

"Chair Aziraphale, pleasssse. chair.!"

Crowley arched under him, persisting back against him, not letting him bring her over the edge yet. Glimpsing over his shoulder at the chair that he just realized was there and not from the cottage, he grinned, snapping away the rest of all their clothes. Rising, he let his wings unfurl and shook them out, fluffing them somewhat before relaxing in the chair; he peered down at the panting demon on the floor who watched.

"You have an angel on your throne, my dear."

Crowley grinned, gracefully moving to her knees. Aziraphale was in the mood to inspire his demon to insanity, wrapping his hand around himself, slowly moving up and down his own shaft. Crowley's eyes widened and swallowed, black wings unfurled, seemingly more refined, more brilliant in their iridescence; walking to the chair, Crowley looked down at his red heels, still on.

"I take it that you like heels, love?"

Aziraphale grinned; yes, he loved the heels, but Crowley calling him love was what had his attention.

Crowley straddled the chair over Aziraphale, moving his hands to her hips.

"Move me."

Aziraphale held himself as still as he could, letting her slide down on her own; not wanting to hurt her, he rested his head against her shoulder as he slid into her, facing him. With a moaning growl, her head fell back, her hair splaying across his legs; he pushed up into her, claws digging into his shoulders.

Crowley rocked her hips and ground down into Aziraphale, drawing his hand down her chest; he splayed his fingers out over her small waist, pushing her back. Letting her serpentine form bend over his legs, her head touching the floor, Aziraphales creative fingers circled her clit, eliciting sounds from his demon he hadn't heard in a very long time.

Still, her hips, held by Aziraphales freehand, rocked into him, his breath becoming ragged, pulling her back up to him. Wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her in place, thrusting up into her. Crowley held on, head rolled back, gasping for air she didn't need, she circled her hips into each thrust, abruptly her walls clasped round Aziraphale's cock as she came against him.

Aziraphale stammered for only a moment before he bit into her neck and growled, releasing into her, both collapsing back against the chair. Aziraphale held his demon close to him, arms encircled around her, his demons head buried in his neck, panting.

"So, can we do this for the next eleven years then? I mean, we are married."

Aziraphale laughed, trying to catch his breath. Crowley lifted her head and looked at him with bright eyes.

"You sure you aren't the bad one here?"

Crowley smirked at him, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips. With a chuckle, he lifted her carrying them into the bedroom, laying Crowley down, crawling in next to her. With a snap of his fingers, all was clean; however, he managed not to put clothing on them. Looking down, she smirked with a knowing glance, her hands sliding back into his hair, pulling him to her.

"You are awful, angel."

While an angel and a demon figured their way through the next eleven years, Agnes Nutter's descendants had continued her orders. Her prophecies had fallen to Anathema Device; she had come to terms and was learning all she needed to know about every prediction there was.

It all came down to this one descendant to make sure the end of the world was not to come to be. Anathema knew everything that would come to be, in one way or another, and from the heavens, both God and Agnes watched. All of humanity relied on a boy, two angels, one fallen, one not, and a witch. It wasn't looking very good at this point, but stranger things had happened, hadn't they?

Eleven uneventful years had progressed, domestic life had come to Aziraphale and Crowley quite easily, checking in every now and again with both up and downstairs. Anathema studied all she needed and was now in Tadfield, Jasmine cottage, to be exact, and establishing her home base.

Warlocks' eleventh birthday party went off without a hitch, except for one small problem, that wasn't a particular angel's inability to do satisfying magic. Crowley could only try and hide the embarrassment from his face, finally snapping his fingers and making it perfect, without his angels' knowledge.

As the party came to an end, both an Angel and Demon sat in the Bentley, looking at each other as one hellhound had not arrived. The speakers in the car turned on only for Aziraphale to go still and silent as Crowley spoke to The Lord of the Files, hearing that the dog should be there. With a quick lie and a turn of both heads...

"No dog..."

"No dog..."

"Wrong boy..."

"Wrong boy..."

As the Bentley sped along, the two had to figure out what transpired; Crowley had lost the boy; actually, they lost the boy, they lost eleven years of work. Back to the bookshop, they had to develop a plan; how had they lost a child, a child that couldn't have been lost, that shouldn't have been lost.

In heaven, God had closed her eyes and rested her palm across her face. A divine head shook back and forth as she watched; how were these two going to save everyone? Her light shone on Anathema, right now, the only one in the right place at the right time.


	14. Every Beginning Has an End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Hell has broken loose, the  
> antichrist was lost, Aziraphale finds  
> himself discorporated and the End  
> is nigh.
> 
> As Crowley snaps his fingers to stop  
> time, all slows, but something goes  
> terribly wrong, when Adam decides  
> an Angel and a Demon need to  
> remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No triggers - This is Where you can go to - Adam Plays Matchmaker.
> 
> Adam Plays Matchmaker is trigger happy.
> 
> They are all listed and remember it is Hell.
> 
> If you don't want to read Adam Plays Matchmaker to find out what happens, go to the last chapter, of  
> Adam Plays Matchmaker, it is the ending for In The Beginning and Adam Plays Matchmaker.
> 
> I am going over Adam Plays matchmaker to correct any parts that are off.

**Chapter Fourteen**

_Every Beginning Has an End_

**[Chapter Fourteen, Playlist - Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi5OFKcnp6W4h-O1-PWhgoCa) **

  
Anathema had set out to try and find the antichrist, but no matter where she looked, he eluded her. Walking through the forest, she stumbled upon children who were reenacting catching witches; much to her dismay still, she spoke with them. They were The Them, and she had wandered into what they claimed as their own.

Adam was obviously the leader, arranging and leading them in the games they were playing. Quite a nice boy at that, Anathema found herself enjoying their company before having to head back, she still had a job to do, and nothing was working as of yet.

Later that night, she wandered out into the forest at night, hoping beyond hope to find something that would lead her in the right direction. With a sigh, she gathered her belongings, placing them within her basket on the boke she rode and headed out. Enjoying how fast the downhill ride was, as her hair whipped around her face, flowing behind her, little did she know she was about to meet an angel and a demon.

Speeding along from the convent, a loud crash had Crowley slamming on the bakes of the Bentley, something he had never truly done, ever. Aziraphale looked over at him...

"You hit someone..."

"No, I didn't; they hit me..."

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, getting out of the car, seeing as it was too dark he lifted his fingers and with a simple snap and the words...

"Let there be light..."

He could see the woman on the ground, rushing to her side, Aziraphale took in the damage, parts that were broken, and as he knelt, Anathema looked up...

"How did you do that...?"

Crowley quickly turned off the lights as Aziraphale healed her, helping her up to the car. With a bit of nudging, Aziraphale convinced Crowley to help bring her home, not knowing that their story's start was happening, not really the beginning but the remembering. With a quick miracle, a tartan bike holder graced Crowleys Bentley, his head snapping back, seeing it, and giving Aziraphale a snide smile.

Still, as they drove, Crowley ribbed Aziraphale for overhealing the bike, with a sassy smirk and seeing as how Aziraphale rolled his eyes and answered back. Pulling up to Anathemas cottage, they dropped her off and sped away.

Crowley went to the bookshop with Aziraphale, unsure whether he should stay or; Aziraphale quickly answered, finding the prophecy book on the floor in the back. Without a by or leave, Aziraphale was gone, with nothing more than a tickety-boo and a confused demon.

As Hell was situating the end of the world and the beginning of the war, Crowley went to watch a cartoon in the theatre; there was not much else he could do. No one knew where the child was; both he and Aziraphale had armies looking for the antichrist. As Crowley watched the screen, a cartoonish Hastur showed up before his eyes.

Hell now knew that Crowley had lost the child, and they were coming for him. He and Aziraphale had had a falling out, though it was more than that; to Crowley, it felt as though the end was here, and it didn't matter, though he had to try one last time before he left.

As stubborn as he was, and as much as he had been abandoned, Aziraphale was still an angel that was bound to Heaven. He couldn't leave; he couldn't help. He was stuck, but he had to try one last time; maybe he could directly talk to God and get her help.

Crowley knew it wouldn't work, but still, he went back to his flat, setting traps for the demons that were coming for him, the holy water Aziraphale had brought for him years before still safely tucked away within a safe in his wall. Taking all precautions, he set it up above his door; whoever came through would be done for.

Hastur was the only survivor, Ligor was melted away before his eyes, and Crowley disappeared into the phone lines leaving Hastur trapped. Aziraphale had finally got into contact with Heaven only to get no further than God's mouthpiece, as it should be, but it was Shadwell, the witchfinder, who broke into the bookshop. Backing Aziraphale into the light, he tried to protect Shadwell from discorporating him and sending him back to Heaven.

Shadwell ran off as candles fell over, igniting the bookshop into flames, burning all found within it. Crowley had continued to try and call Aziraphale; he had to save him, Hell might be coming for him. Though try as he might, there was no answer, then as if a switch had been flipped, Crowley had to stop the car.

Grasping at his chest, he could no longer feel Aziraphale, anywhere. It felt like he had just stopped existing; Crowley slammed his foot to the floor, leveling the gas pedal to the ground, urging the car faster. Flames and smoke were what greeted him first as he rounded the corner. Getting out of his car, a human tried to talk to him; he honestly didn't care; it was a stupid question, and his angel was gone.

Desperation and panic-filled Crowley; all the years of being together, of rekindling what they had once had and only Crowley remembered, felt gone. He was empty as he walked through the flames hoping beyond hope for anything of his angel. Realization coursed through him as the water blasted into the fire; Aziraphale was gone. Yelling out at a god that would never hear him and cursing at Satan for all he had done to him, he sat there alone.

For a brief moment feeling how alone Aziraphale had to have been for all of those years, he picked up the book. A title stood out to him, one that Aziraphale mentioned on more than occasion over the years. Grabbing the book, he walked out of the flames, his glasses broken, but honestly, he didn't care.

Getting into his car, even the Bentley could feel the loss and started playing whatever it thought would help its own. All Crowley wanted was to be as drunk as he could get and let the end happen because there was nothing worth saving if there was no Aziraphale. Finding the closest bar was where Crowley parked himself until the end came and went.

Anathema had been brought Newt, as Agnes had said. He arrived right on time, brought to her by The Them, she quickly sent them on their way, sending them home. The end was coming, and still, some things must be done. Including falling in love with Newt before they ever left the house, not just falling in love but falling into each other.

As Aziraphale discorporated, he found himself back in Heaven, his leg injured and in pain from where he had discorporated. Walking to the quartermaster, he was scolded, finally having had enough, he was, after all, thee Principality, how dare he be spoken too like this. He had been abandoned for over six thousand years; he wasn't fighting any war for anyone but Crowley.

Seeing the Earth, his home with Crowley, Aziraphale walked to it, a simple question of how it worked, only to receive no answer made up his mind. Lifting a finger, Aziraphale touched the floating globe right above where his bookshop should be, thinking of going to wherever Crowley was; he had to find him; he desperately needed to tell him how foolish he had been and where the antichrist was.

They still needed to stop the end, one way or another. Tipping back yet another bottle, Crowley was slurring words, letting the alcohol take over, holding the book within his coat next to his chest, over his heart. He could feel where Aziraphale had touched the book and let his grace hold onto the feeling while it was still present.

Ordering another bottle, Crowley opened it, complaining to the barkeep that he didn't want to fall; he was just around the wrong people. Remembering the day of the fall when Beelzebub grabbed hold of him, ending his life as far as Crowley was concerned. Taking a drink, he looked ahead of him; lifting his glasses from his nose, he squinted his eyes.

Aziraphale floated in front of him, sitting in the chair, looking around as though he couldn't quite see Crowley yet. As soon as Crowley spoke, Aziraphale's head snapped to look at him. Seeing and feeling how much despair was in the voice of his love, seeing as he held back tears, hearing the sob he tried to hide. Aziraphale couldn't help or apologize enough; he knew it was his fault, but that would come later; they had to get to the airforce base where Adam was going to be.

Aziraphale asked about the bookshop, trying to tell Crowley what he would need. Crowley looked even more saddened, if that was possible, he didn't want to Aziraphale that everything he had found comfort in for so many hears was gone. All that remained for him would be Crowley, and Crowley doubted himself for a moment that he would be enough, and he would lose Aziraphale forever.

Aziraphale listened, feeling his heartbreak; Crowley asked which of the books he needed. Crowley, having been a creature of habit, he took a souvenir, the book Aziraphale needed for Crowley to find everything. Aziraphale slowly started to fade away, which only brought panic to Crowley, fearing he would again lose his angel. He rushed to his car and started to drive there, only to hit a traffic jam and a wall of hellfire that he had created without knowing.

Aziraphale looked for someone he could enter with their permission; he wasn't a demon and couldn't just take over someone's body. Possessing a human was beyond him unless they were open to the other side; eventually, he found Madame Tracey and Shadwell. After finally explaining all to the humans, they started their way on a moped towards the airforce base.

Far too slowly for Aziraphale, something he never thought he would say or believe ever. A small miracle later and the moped was off, flying towards the air force base. Just as The Them, Anathema and Newt, and Crowley all headed to the base. The end was happening; the horseman were already there wreaking havoc on the Earth, slowly getting ready to set off nuclear bombs, to decimate Earth.

Crowley sat in his car, trying to figure out a way through the fire, finally grabbing the book and flipping through it. Tossing it next to him, he leaned forward, looking out over the flames until his glasses were taken from his face. Taken aback, Crowley growled at the touch; it wasn't his angel. It was Hastur. The touch, the look, had Crowley saying fuck it, he wasn't going back to Hell to face anything, not now or ever again.

Through the fire, Crowley drove, discorporating Hastur and willing the Bentley to stay intact. Crowley was not going to lose his angel, even if he never remembered anything; what he had was more than enough. Aziraphale, Madame Tracey, and Shadwell had finally arrived and were trying to get past the soldier.

As they tried to explain, music and flames tore around the corners, screeching to a haul behind them. Watching Aziraphale smiled, seeing Crowley, who sauntered his way to his angel's side, even going so much as to compliment the dress he was wearing, smiling as he got a flustered Aziraphale.

Aziraphale tried to explain what was going on, to which they watched The Them open the gates and ride through. The soldier turned towards them as from behind Crowley; his car exploded into a ball of fire. His heart dropped and broke, matching that of Aziraphale's; both had lost everything but each other.

Adam called out the four horsemen as Anathema and Newt made it inside, systemically stopping the nuclear warheads from being set off. The Them fought the four horsemen, succeeding in sending them back to where they came from, leaving Aziraphale, Crowley, and the others standing outside.

Adam looked at Aziraphale as Madame Tracey refused to let him harm a child. Adam was not affected by any of the goings-on separated Aziraphale from madame Tracey finding it disturbing and not right. Just as they all took a breath, Gabriel and Beelzebub showed up, trying to bully Adam into restarting the war only to find themselves thwarted by an antichrist, an angel, and a demon.

Adam watched as Crowley dropped to the ground; Lucifer was coming; he knew this feeling all too well. Everything in him told him it was over, panicking; he couldn't think of anything but to say goodbye to Aziraphale. Seeing his sword, Aziraphale picked up his sword and threatened to never speak to Crowley again; it was enough for Crowley to stop all time, dragging both Aziraphale and Adam with him.


End file.
